


Like Some Kind of Catastrophe

by daniomalley



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Homelessness, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2020-10-13 22:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 65,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20590397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniomalley/pseuds/daniomalley
Summary: Michael and Ray are two homeless teenagers, looking out for each other as best they can. They don't need or trust anyone else, and things are just fine like that until the night Jack and Geoff come crashing into their lives.





	1. Chapter 1

Michael stands nonchalantly a few steps away from the café's outdoor seating area. From the corner of his eye he can see two men who look to be nearly done eating, with a good amount of food on their plates untouched. He hopes they're not going to sit around for ages with cups of coffee. The guy with the beard had ordered the Epic Austin Burger (two patties, three kinds of cheese, bacon and chutney. Even the fucking bun looks delicious), and Michael wants to get a chance to try it before it goes cold.

Finally - thank fuck - they stand up before anyone comes to clear away the plates. Michael waits until they're far enough away before making his move. He walks at a slow pace so it's not too noticeable when he pauses by the table they just vacated, and grabs the first plate to tip the remaining fries into his bag. He sets the burger on top, and casts a considering look over the tip the men had left behind.

He always feels shitty about ripping off people's tips. The food is just going to get thrown away, but some waiter probably needs that money. Not as much as Michael does, though, and he usually puts aside his conscience and pockets the cash when he’s in a situation like this, but today someone behind him yells, "Hey! Kid!"

Michael doesn’t feel like getting chased, so he leaves the money where it is and walks briskly away. He gets maybe halfway down the street before he realises that someone's been watching him the whole time.

It's one of those guys. Not the one with the beard and the burger, but the other one. He's got a silly-looking moustache, and he's watching Michael with a small frown on his face like he's trying to figure something out. Or like he's trying to commit Michael's face to memory. Not knowing what else to do, Michael flips the guy off and ducks down an alleyway.

It's not like they could catch him, even if they tried.

***

Ray is waiting behind the library, just like Michael hoped. It's a good meeting place, public but never crowded. Michael waves and hurries over, eager to see Ray’s reaction when he presents the food. He opens his backpack and drops it in Ray’s lap. Ray looks kind of irritated for a second, until he sees what’s inside.

"Dude, awesome," Ray says. He grabs a handful of fries. “Hey, they’re not even cold.” 

“Give the bag back, asshole, I brought the food to share.”

The food is pretty good. Michael wishes he had more room to finish off the fries, but he starts to feel uncomfortably full before he can manage it. He stretches out on the pavement up against the library wall where he's protected by the shade, and folds his hands over his stomach. He tries to convince himself that the full feeling is nice rather than kind of sickly.

Ray seems to have eaten his fill as well, and leans up against the wall next to Michael. "Thanks," he says.

"Hey, of course, man."

Ray always seems to think there's a catch. He used to tell Michael that nothing is free. Michael has worked on him, got him to accept that it doesn't work like that between them, but Ray has trouble remembering sometimes. 

If anything, Michael's the one who's in Ray's debt. Ray looked out for him when his parents kicked him out and taught him how things worked until Michael learned to look after himself. Sometimes Michael thinks he'd be dead without Ray.

Michael doesn't feel like moving, and Ray basically never feels like moving, but they can't just hang out here all day. Or anywhere else. That's one of the problems with living on the streets. No one really wants you around, and if you stay in one place too long someone will come and move you along.

"Let's go hang out at the arcade," Michael suggests, and at least that catches Ray's interest. Sometimes they can find a card with a bit of money left on it, or if it's been a good day they can spare a few dollars to play one of the games. If not, they can still pass the time heckling the customers and laughing at the really terrible gamers.

It's not a bad way to spend the afternoon. They don't get to play, but Michael finds a prize someone dropped, an ugly little plush pony with a bright purple mane. He gives it to Ray like he's presenting it to the fucking queen, and Ray reacts just as he was hoping, accepting the gift with an exaggeratedly serious expression and carrying it around like he doesn't want it to break for the rest of the day.

***

Ray doesn't like people very much. It's kind of a problem when you live on the streets and can't just go sit in your own bedroom to avoid dealing with anyone else. He makes an exception for Michael, of course, but aside from him, fuck people.

He deals with it by walking around a lot. If he always looks like he's on his way somewhere else, no one really bothers him. Ray thinks he’s probably walked down every street in Austin at least once. It's a bullshit amount of walking for someone who'd never voluntarily do any exercise otherwise, but it's the lesser of two evils, and it means he gets to see some interesting stuff.

Like today, he's walking through an area he's not all that familiar with. He turns a corner and realises this isn't a street like he'd assumed, but a cul-de-sac. He's about to turn around and head back when he hears a shout, followed by laughter.

He walks towards the sound and finds a group of people gathered on the other side of a chain link fence. They're looking at something on the ground, and then in unison all leap backwards. Seconds later, a small object shoots up into the sky, trailing white vapour behind it.

"Where's it coming down?" someone yells. "Jeremy, are you getting it? It's- Ryan, look out!"

A broad shouldered blond man - Ryan, Ray assumes - dodges to the side just in time to avoid the bottle rocket landing on his head. The group bursts into hysterical laughter and one man, holding a video camera, approaches Ryan to get a close up.

"Did your life flash before your eyes?" he asks.

The two men banter while the rest of the group sets up another bottle rocket to launch. Their antics are pretty funny and Ray lets a low chuckle slip out, but then he notices that not everyone is occupied with the next rocket. There's one guy standing a little back from the group, and he's watching Ray.

Ray stiffens. The other man realises he's been spotted and starts to move, but Ray's not going to wait around to see what he'll do. He turns and sets off down the street, listening hard for any sound of someone following him.

There's nothing. He's safe, but he wishes he could have kept watching a little bit longer.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been a long fucking week. Of course, every week is long when you have Gavin fucking Free in your office, pulling stupid pranks and trying to blame them on other people in the most transparent possible way. This week was longer than most though, and much as he hates to admit it Geoff can't really blame that on Gavin either. Who goes to a meeting for the purpose of scheduling meetings? This guy, apparently.

"I need shots," Geoff says, eyeing the selection of bottles behind the bar. "I need all the shots."

"You said you weren't going to overdo it tonight," says Jack behind him. He's laughing, but there's a hint of weariness in his voice. Geoff purses his lips in contemplation.

"I at least want one of everything," he amends. "They can do that, right? I'll share them with you."

"I don't even like shots," says Jack, and he definitely sounds put out now. Fuck. Geoff needs to turn this around before he's sleeping on the couch.

"I'll have a beer," he tells the bartender, only a little sulky. He can sense Jack nodding approvingly behind his back.

They take their beers to a table in the corner, and Geoff settles in to unwind from the week. It's nice, even if it's not the shot he was craving. Still, since Jack has convinced him to take it easy in terms of drinking, the idea of a night out isn't quite as appealing as it was. Jack sitting opposite him, however, looks more and more appealing as the night goes on, and Geoff begins to contemplate getting him someplace private.

He's barely even buzzed by the time he suggests calling it a night. Jack's surprised expression shifts to anticipation with one wiggle of Geoff's eyebrows, and they finish their drinks and head for the door.

Parking isn't great in this part of town, and it's a bit of a walk to get to their car. They're almost there when a scream splits through the silence.

"RAY!" yells a male voice. Whoever it is sounds scared, and angry, and desperate.

Geoff might not be drunk, but his inhibitions are lowered enough that he takes off in the direction of the voice without pausing to consider whether it's a good idea. Just around the corner is a tiny, run-down strip mall, and in the weak flickering light from the shop windows, Geoff sees a group of figures huddled around something on the ground. They're kicking it, he realises,and his temper rises and his mouth opens without a conscious decision being made.

"Get the fuck out of here!" he yells. "I've called the cops!" Fuck, he hopes Jack hears him and has the sense to actually call the cops.

He runs towards the group even though he's not sure what he'll do when he reaches them, one man against three, but the threat of the police is effective and they bolt. Their target remains huddled on the ground, a kid with curly hair and his face covered in blood.

"Fuck, are you alright?" Geoff asks, but the kid ignores him and scrambles around, trying to stand.

"Ray?" he yells. "Ray!"

And Geoff realises there's someone else lying on the ground, someone he hadn't noticed in the chaos. The first kid runs to his friend's - Ray's? - side, with Geoff right behind him.

Ray is lying very still, but once he's close enough Geoff can hear him breathing, fast and shallow. He's curled up and clutching his stomach, and Geoff's own stomach gives a lurch.

"Christ Geoff, what the hell. You fucking better be alright," Jack pants, finally arriving on the scene with his cell phone pressed to one ear. "What's going on?"

"We need an ambulance," Geoff snaps. "And cops."

The kid who isn't Ray snaps his head around. "No we don't, we're fine," he snaps, and Geoff thinks he's trying to sound angry but he mostly just sounds scared. He crouches down.

"Your friend's been stabbed," he murmurs, his voice sounding a lot calmer than he actually feels.

The kid sniffles pathetically. "He'll be fine."

"Of course he will," says Geoff. "But he's going to need a hospital."

Ray shifts on the ground, his hands going towards the wound on his stomach. The other kid grabs his arm before Geoff can intervene.

"Don't pull the knife out! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm not gonna pull it out, asshole, I'm not a moron!" Ray grimaces and Geoff winces in sympathy. He reaches out.

"You need to keep pressure on the wound," he says. "Is it cool if I help?"

Ray doesn't look happy about it, but he doesn't have much to look happy about right now so Geoff can't blame him. "Fine, whatever," he says.

Geoff presses down on the wound, careful not to touch the knife. He doesn't want to make anything worse, and maybe the cops will be able to get some fingerprints off it. Ray clenches his jaw, muffling a pained groan behind lips pressed together so tightly they turn white.

"Ambulance is on its way," says Jack. "Cops too."

Michael scowls down at his knees. "We weren't doing anything wrong."

Geoff is floored by that, but if Jack feels the same way he doesn't show it. He crouches down next to Michael.

"Of course you weren't," he says. "But whoever stabbed your friend shouldn't get away with it."

"Cops won't care," says Michael. "And we don't have money for a hospital." He looks troubled, though. Geoff's hands are gradually being covered with blood, and it's pretty obvious that Ray's going to need medical attention.

"They have to provide you with emergency care, whether you can pay or not," says Jack. Michael gives him a look of total disbelief, and Geoff isn't sure whether it's because he truly didn't know that or whether he knows all too well that it's more complicated than Jack is making it sound. Fuck, even if Ray gets admitted overnight, what's he supposed to do once he's discharged? Does he have somewhere to stay so he can keep the wound clean? He's sure to need antibiotics and dressings, how is he going to get them? Maybe the cops will be able to help. There's no way these guys are old enough to be living on the streets by themselves. The cops will probably get them a social worker and the social worker will get them a place to stay. Yeah.

But things don't work out like that, in the end. The ambulance collects Ray to take him to the hospital, and the cops arrive just as the paramedics are loading him onto a stretcher. Michael clearly doesn't want to be around the police but also doesn't want to leave his friend. The cops seem to assume they're all together, though.

"You can ride to the station in our cruiser, or if you've got your own car you can follow us," the more senior policeman says.

Jack tells them that they do have a car, and the cops leave them to it. Geoff is pretty sure the kid is thinking about running, so he says, "What about it, kid? We can drive you to the hospital to see your friend once we're done."

It's clearly a tempting offer, and the kid accepts with a jerky nod and his jaw clenched. Geoff leads the way back to the car, but he lets Jack drive. The excitement has done wonders for sobering him up, but not that much.

The kid sits in the back seat, a heavy sullen presence. Geoff glances over his shoulder a few times, annoyed by the nagging feeling that he looks familiar, until he realises he saw the kid the other day, taking leftover food from the restaurant he and Jack had gone to for lunch. Well shit.

"What's your name, kid?" Geoff asks.

For a minute it seems like the kid won't answer, but he finally grates out, "Michael."

It's not very far to the police station, and soon they're walking through the doors to be greeted by one of the cops who'd attended the scene.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to get some photos of your injuries," he says to Michael. In the harsh fluorescent lighting, he really does look fucking terrible.

Michael is obviously not too keen on the idea, but eventually he shrugs. "Fine, whatever," he says, and the cop leads him off down a hallway.

A different cop comes to take Geoff and Jack to an interview room, where they spend the best part of an hour recounting every detail they can remember, and a few they don't even realise they'd remembered. Geoff is surprised by how much the cops get out of him, considering he never even saw any of the attackers' faces.

As long as their interview takes, Michael's goes for even longer, and Geoff and Jack wait on a bench in the lobby for at least another hour before he reappears. He's washed his face, thank god, but that just means Geoff is startled all over again by how fucking young he looks.

He tries to shoot Jack a meaningful look, but it just causes Jack to raise his eyebrows in puzzlement. Whatever. Geoff nonchalantly stands and walks across the room to the cop who's escorted Michael out.

"We, uh, told Michael we'd give him a lift to see his friend, but I don't... is someone coming to pick him up?"

The cop gave him an odd look. "Don't think so. He couldn't give us a phone number, and the address he gave was for a shelter in Rosedale."

"Well..." Geoff pauses to organise his thoughts. "But he's just a kid. Don't you need to call social services or something?"

"He says he's eighteen," the cop says with a shrug.

"There's no way that kid's eighteen! Did he show you ID?"

The cop laughs. "Buddy, if I demanded ID from every hobo we interview here, I'd be a very busy man." His expression softens, and Geoff can see that it's not that he doesn't care. It's just that there's a lot to do and only so many tools to accomplish it with. Geoff can sympathise, it's a familiar kind of feeling, but...

"Look, if he wanted that kind of help, he'd ask for it. If he's lying about being an adult, he's probably got his reasons. If you feel sorry for him, give him that lift. Buy him a burger or something. But me, I've got a thousand other things to do. Thanks for your report."

Frustrated, Geoff turns away. Michael is sitting across the room next to Jack. He's probably too far away to have overheard, but he eyes Geoff suspiciously nonetheless.

***

Geoff is about to do something stupid. Jack can see it written all over his face. He's not sure what, but... well, to tell the truth he could probably hazard a pretty good guess.

Michael is sitting in the back seat of the car again. They're on their way to the hospital, but Geoff taps Jack's arm as they approach a Burger King.

"Pull up to the drive through, would you?"

"Jesus, didn't you eat enough at the bar?" Jack groans, but he pulls in anyway. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what Geoff's up to, anyway.

It doesn't take a genius, but it still seems to come as a surprise to the kid when Geoff swivels around in his seat and says, "Hey, you want anything?"

"Huh? Nah," Michael says, folding his arms.

Geoff looks at Jack helplessly. He obviously wasn't expecting to be rebuffed. Jack rolls his eyes.

"You sure, kid?" he asks. "I feel like a whopper. In a meal. Geoff?"

"Uh, sure," says Geoff, catching on.

"Great. How about it?" he asks Michael.

"Fuck off," he says, staring out the window.

Well, that's not ideal, but Jack's not beaten yet. He orders two large whopper meals and pulls over to the side once they've got their food. Fuck, a second dinner from Burger King is the last thing he needs. This better work.

"Whoa," he says, lifting his fries out of the bag. "Look at the size of this thing! I don't need all these fries and a burger as well. Kid, why don't you eat my burger for me?"

Michael makes a non-committal noise. Jack gives Geoff a pointed look.

"Uh, yeah," says Geoff. "Jack, I forgot to say something, but I only wanted the burger, not a whole meal. You should take these fries, ok Michael?"

It's pretty fucking transparent, but they seem to have worn Michael down, or maybe now he can smell the food his resolve has weakened. "Fine," Michael grumbles, accepting the bag.

Jack continues driving to the hospital, snacking on his fries and keeping one eye on Geoff just in case he decides to steal one. By the time they arrive all that's left of the food they gave Michael is empty wrappers and dirty napkins.

They walk into the hospital and Michael freezes in the foyer, looking around with a lost expression. Jack approaches him once he realises Michael isn't going to move, pointing out the reception desk.

"Over here," he says. "If you give the receptionist your friend's name, she'll tell you what room he's in."

Michael scowls. "I know that, piss off," he snaps, jerking away like he thinks Jack was about to touch him. Jack lifts his hands and backs away. So much for the idea that giving Michael food would make him more friendly to them.

Apparently, because he was the victim of a violent assault, Ray has to approve his visitors before they'll let them pass through. Jack should have thought of that, but it's fine. They have to wait while the receptionist calls up to Ray's ward, and the nurse on duty tells apparently reports that he's very eager to see Michael. The receptionist gives them directions.

Once they reach the ward, the nurse stops them outside Ray's room.

"Most of our patients are sleeping, and they need to rest, so it's important that you don't disturb them," she says. "And Ray needs rest too. It's outside visiting hours, but he really wants to see you, so you can have ten minutes but you have to be quiet."

"Yeah, of course," says Jack, as Michael seems too overwhelmed by the situation to reply.

Jack and Geoff don't want to impose on Michael and Ray given that they don't really know the kids, so they wave a greeting and then stand awkwardly off to one side while Michael takes a seat next to Ray's bed. Despite their promise to be quiet, Jack can clearly hear what Michael's saying. He probably is trying to keep his voice down; Jack suspects that loud is simply his default setting.

"You better be okay, fuckface."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ray grins a bit lopsidedly. He's probably on the good painkillers. "They said the knife missed any vital organs, so they stitched me up and they just want to keep me for 24 hours to make sure."

"Well, good," says Michael. "You stupid asshole, didn't you hear me tell you to stay back? I was dealing with it."

"You were getting your ass kicked," says Ray.

"Fuck you! You got stabbed, that was a big fucking help!"

They continue bickering, Michael intermittently remembering to lower his voice for a little while before it inevitably rises again. Jack is busy staring at Ray's face, because now he's in the relatively well-lit hospital room, he looks familiar. At last, Jack places him - the kid he saw watching the crew filming a video about a week ago. It had struck him as weird at the time, because there weren't many pedestrians in that area. He'd assumed Ray was a kid cutting school, which just serves to drive home how young he must be.

After a while -closer to twenty minutes than ten, truth be told - the nurse comes back and makes them leave. Michael tells Ray he'll be back tomorrow, and they head back to the hospital entrance.

And then Geoff does the stupid thing, which Jack has been expecting ever since they saw Michael back at the police station with his face cleaned up, looking like a kicked puppy.

"You got somewhere to go, kid?" he asks.

Michael looks at them both and Jack can see the wheels turning, calculating and weighing every little thing he knows about them.

"Yeah, sure," says Michael with a grin which looks less friendly than it does threatening.

Geoff either doesn't notice the warning or doesn't care. "Because if you want somewhere to stay until your friend gets out of hospital, we've got a spare room."

Michael shakes his head, edging away from them without turning his back. "Nah, thanks," he says.

Geoff says, "But-" and reaches out, which breaks the spell. Michael is close enough to the doors; they slide open and he darts through, moving quicker than Jack would have guessed he was capable of.

Geoff twitches like he thinks he can chase after Michael but he must realise he's got no chance of catching him and stops himself. "He ran away," he tells Jack mournfully like he wasn't standing right fucking there the whole time. "Why would he do that?"

Jack sighs, putting a hand on Geoff's shoulder. "Come on, dumbass. Let's get you home."

"Are you mad that I invited him to stay without asking you first?" Geoff asks once they're in the car.

"Of course not. But you get why he bolted, right? He doesn't know us. He's got no reason to trust us. Did you really think he'd accept?"

Geoff sighs. "I dunno," he says, staring out the window moodily. "I just felt bad for him. I recognised him, you know?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Couple weeks ago, I saw him outside the restaurant, swiping the leftovers from our meal. It just made me think... why doesn't he have someone taking care of him? Every kid needs that."

"I don't know, Geoff. You can't make him accept help he doesn't want, though."

"Yeah." But Geoff still looks unhappy, and Jack doesn't think this is gonna be the last time they talk about this.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael spends the night dozing in a doorway a few blocks from the hospital. It’s too far to walk all the way back to their usual spot only to come back in the morning to see Ray, but it does make things a bit awkward. He doesn't know this area well, doesn't know where's safe and where isn't, and he’s got Ray’s backpack with all of his stuff along with his own to take care of. It makes for a night of fitful sleep.

That gives him plenty of time to think about shit. If Ray gets out of hospital tomorrow, they're going to have to get back to the other side of town somehow. Ray said he wasn't hurt that bad, but Michael isn't stupid. He could see how high Ray was on painkillers. He's not sure Ray will be able to walk that far, but it's not like they have a choice.

With Ray being hurt, it's going to be a lot harder to get things done. Michael can probably handle getting food for them both, but it's going to stretch him kind of thin. And if they run into any sort of trouble while Ray's already hurt, he won't be able to run away or defend himself. Michael can protect him, he always tries to anyway, but. It's just going to be hard.

Just before dawn, when people start moving around, Michael gives up on sleep. It's still too early to go to the hospital, so he wanders around for a bit, bleary-eyed and yawning. Finally, at about eight, he makes his way in to see Ray.

He's sitting up in bed when Michael arrives, looking much more alert than the night before. He looks pleased to see Michael, even if his expression on the whole seems kind of tense. Michael gets it; there are three other beds in this room, all occupied. Ray hates being around lots of people and especially sleeping around people he doesn't know. It's the main reason they avoid shelters.

Someone has just brought breakfast around when Michael arrives. Ray gestures to the toast on his plate and says, "Want a slice?"

"Nah," says Michael. He just had a big meal last night, and Ray probably needs it more after getting stabbed. But Ray just rolls his eyes and takes one slice, pointedly leaving the other untouched until Michael gives in.

"What's with people sharing their food with me lately?" Michael wonders aloud.

Ray says, "Huh?" so Michael has to explain the whole thing to him. Ray laughs and accuses Michael of finding a sugar daddy. Whatever.

Michael would have hung out at the hospital the entire day, but apparently visiting hours close between half past one and three for some stupid reason, so he leaves to wander around a bit more. He gets kind of turned around and by the time he finds his way back to the hospital it's closer to four.

He walks into Ray's room and finds someone else there. One of those guys from last night - Jack - is sitting by Ray's bed, talking to him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Michael demands. Jack looks at him and smiles, although he seems kind of concerned. Michael feels like Jack's staring at his black eye and split lip. He tries to ignore it. It's no big deal. It'll heal soon enough.

"Hi, Michael," says Jack. "It's nice to see you again." He hasn't actually answered Michael's fucking question, so Michael folds his arms and tries to stare Jack down. "I just wanted to make sure you were both okay."

"Oh yeah? Well, we are. Look." Michael gestures from himself to Ray, as though to emphasise that, despite the evidence, they're both the picture of health.

Ray's propped up in his bed, and tries to lean forward. "Jack is offering us a place to stay," he says. There's no emotion in his words, but there doesn't need to be. Michael can sense Ray's wariness because it's the same as his own.

"Oh, yeah?" he says. "We don't want your help. We don't need it. Don't go making offers you don't mean because you got a guilty conscience."

Jack sighs. "Look," he says. "I figure you two have a place you usually stay, but if it's anywhere near where we met last night, it's on the other side of the city." Where we met. What a way of describing what actually happened. "I'm not sure Ray's up to walking that far, and you're looking a bit worse for wear yourself, Michael."

Michael glares at him. Fuck this guy, he's fine and doesn't need coddling. But Jack's not done.

"So I hope you'll at least accept a lift somewhere. But... look, once Ray leaves the hospital, he's still gonna need to look after that wound. Keep it clean, and change the dressing, and stuff. Do you have somewhere you can shower? Someplace safe you can rest up? Ray, I bet your doctor warned you about pulling those stitches or reopening the wound."

From Ray's gloomy expression, his doctor has indeed told him something very similar to that. It opens a whole new line of worries for Michael. Yeah, he can probably keep Ray out of trouble and scavenge enough food for both of them for a little while, but how the fuck are they gonna keep Ray's stitches clean? Michael wouldn't know what to do even if they had a fucking ensuite in their cardboard box. And everything else Jack is offering... it would make things so much easier. It's stupid and Michael knows he shouldn't trust him, but to not have to worry about what they're gonna eat, or what happens if they walk into another fight...

Michael looks at Ray to see what he's thinking. Ray's staring back at him, his expression inscrutable, but after a second he nods and shrugs, leaving Michael to have the final say.

"Fine, whatever," Michael says, scowling so that Jack won't start to think he's soft. "If you try any bullshit I'll fucking kill you."

"You're ever so welcome," says Jack, rolling his eyes.

***

The nice thing about being the boss is that no one can make you work on the weekend. The bad thing about it is that if it’s the weekend and there’s work that can’t wait until Monday, you can either buckle down and get it done, or leave it and worry that the company will go under because you slacked off.

Jack dropped Geoff off a few hours ago and promised to be back to pick him up by five. It’s half past now, and Jack is still nowhere to be seen.

"Ryan, where the fuck is Jack?"

Ryan turns around from where he was just about to climb into his own car. "Uh, I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”

Ryan had a few things to finish up himself, and he and Geoff are heading home at the same time. Or at least, they should be. Right now it doesn’t really look like Geoff’s heading anywhere. 

Geoff grumbles and digs out his cell phone. He calls Jack, but it goes straight to voicemail. “He’s not picking up.”

"Maybe he can’t answer because he’s driving here right now," says Ryan, putting one foot inside his car like he thinks that will keep him from being drawn into whatever family crisis is unfolding.

"Well, shit, Ryan," Geoff starts, but before he can really get going on his hissy fit he sees his car pulling into the driveway, with Jack at the wheel. "Thank fuck."

"Worried he was gonna make you walk home?" Ryan teases.

"Shut the fuck up."

Jack parks, and Geoff advances on the car, ready to ask where he's been, but then he realises there's someone sitting in the passenger seat. And someone else in the back seat. And then Jack opens his door and Geoff can see that it's Ray and Michael.

"What the fuck," says Geoff.

Ryan is no longer trying to sneak away. Instead, he's stalling and blatantly trying to eavesdrop, the faithless asshole. Geoff quickly flips him off over his shoulder.

He leans in towards Jack. "Uh... hey, guys," he says to Ray and Michael. "Good to see you again."

Ray says, "Hey," while Michael just gives him a sullen nod. Geoff looks at Jack curiously, but Jack just returns the look with a guileless expression.

"Michael and Ray have agreed to stay with us while Ray gets back on his feet," says Jack. "Come one, get in so we can go home. You'll have to sit in the back seat, it's first come first served here."

"That's ok, I can get in the back," Ray says at once, reaching for his seatbelt.

"No no, don't move, I can sit in the back," Geoff says quickly, because he's not gonna be the guy who makes the kid who just got stabbed move to the back seat so he can ride shotgun. He gets into the car next to Michael and settles in for what proves to be one of the most uncomfortable car rides of his life.

He can't put his finger on why it's so much more awkward than driving Michael around last night, but it's probably something to do with Ray and Michael both being in the car, having some kind of wordless conversation made out of grunts and head tilts. Geoff isn't sure how productive their discussion is, but his own silent conversation with Jack, conducted only through eyebrow movements visible in the rear view mirror, isn't going so well.

He tries to convey "What the _fuck _, Jack?" with his face, and Jack's response, so far as Geoff can decipher it, is, "You'll find out, motherfucker." God, he'd love to know how Jack pulled this off.

They arrive home, and Michael leaps out of the car to help Ray out. Both the kids are moving pretty stiffly, especially Ray, and Geoff winces in sympathy but forces himself to keep quiet for fear of breaking whatever spell Jack has cast.

They show the kids inside, where Jack points out the guest bedroom. There’s only a single bed in it, but there’s a cot they can set up for Michael. “There’s a bathroom just across the hall,” Jack points. “Geoff and I don’t really use it, we have an ensuite, so you’ll basically have it to yourselves. Geoff will get you two some towels and stuff if you want to shower, and I’m going to go get dinner started.”

Geoff goes to the closet to get the towels as per his instructions, and when he returns to the guest bedroom he overhears Michael say, “He said _they_ have an ensuite. What does that mean? They share a bedroom?”

“Guess so,” says Ray. He doesn’t sound very interested.

“Do you think these guys are homos?”

“Don’t know. Who cares?”

Geoff quietly backs up a few steps, then approaches the door more loudly, clearing his throat. He sticks his head into the room, seeing Ray sitting on the bed and Michael looking at the bookshelf standing against the opposite wall.

“Here,” Geoff says, putting the towels down on the dresser. “There’s soap and shampoo in the bathroom, and I think there’s toothbrushes and toothpaste as well. If there’s anything else you need that’s not in there, let us know and we’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. That’s great. Thanks,” Ray says. He looks uncomfortable. Hell, it is really uncomfortable, for all of them. Michael is kind of glaring at Geoff, and he’d be annoyed except he’s starting to think that’s just the way Michael’s face looks.

“Cool, well... I’m gonna go help Jack with dinner. Um, Ray, I don’t know what advice your doctor gave you, but you might be better off washing in the tub rather than using the shower, so you don’t get your stitches wet. Make yourselves at home, and let us know if you need anything, and... yeah.” Geoff gives them a dumb little wave and backs out of the room, feeling like an idiot. He heads straight for the kitchen to interrogate Jack.

“How the fuck did this happen?” he asks from the kitchen doorway, keeping his voice down so the kids don’t overhear.

“Geoff, hey,” says Jack. “Perfect timing. You can peel the potatoes.”

“You’re being smug,” Geoff points out as he picks up the peeler. “Don’t think I can’t fucking tell when you’re being smug, asshole. How in the fuck did you convince them to come home with you? Did you see the way Michael bolted last night? God only knows what he thought we were planning to do to him.”

Jack shrugs. “I just pointed out that it would be better for Ray to have somewhere safe and comfortable to recover,” he says. “I just made sure not to come on too strong. I know you want to help them, Geoff, but it’s like befriending a stray dog...”

“Oh, don’t you fucking start.”

“You’ve got to let them come to you,” Jack finishes unperturbed.

***

Ray takes Geoff's advice and gives himself a sponge bath rather than using the shower. It's kind of a bummer, because now that he's got the opportunity he'd like nothing more than to stand under the steaming hot spray and scrub every speck of dirt from his skin. It's fine, though. He gets himself decently clean and even leans over to wash his hair, although he's not as thorough as he'd like. His stomach starts to protest the position loudly after he's held it for a couple of minutes.

It's nice to wash up, but it doesn't do much to distract him from the fact that he's quietly freaking out. Nothing is free, Ray knows that all too well, and something like this, a nice house to sleep in with a bed to himself and, apparently, a hot meal, is going to cost more than Ray would prefer to pay. But Jack had put the offer to them back in the hospital and the temptation had been all too clear on Michael's face.

Ray's not stupid. He knows that Michael considers himself responsible for keeping Ray safe for some reason. He knows that Michael's been stressing out ever since he got stabbed, probably worrying about how he's going to make sure they don't get mugged while Ray's so obviously not able to fight back, how he can make sure they both get enough to eat, how he can make sure Ray gets better when getting him to a doctor is about as achievable as getting him to the moon. Accepting Jack's offer would make Michael's life a hell of a lot easier. If Ray had given the word, Michael would have turned Jack down, Ray _knows _ that, and he would have gone without sleep and food to make sure Ray had what he needed, until he started to resent him for it.

So Ray had said yes, even knowing that someone will have to pay for it. He owes Michael that much, so when the time comes he can make sure he's the one paying the price, not Michael.

He dries off and puts on the faded t-shirt and sweatpants Geoff had loaned him. The legs are way too long, so he has to roll them up a few times, but it’s better than putting on the dirty clothes he was wearing before. Geoff said that he was going to show them how to use the washing machine, so Ray can hopefully wear his own clothes again tomorrow. He has a change of clothes in his backpack, but to be honest they could also use a wash. 

Michael is still waiting in the guest bedroom when Ray returns. He’s pulled one of the books off the bookshelf, although Ray is pretty sure he’s just flipping through it, not actually reading it. If he is reading it, he’s got through a good two thirds of the book in the fifteen minutes Ray spent washing, which would be kind of impressive.

“Hey, Jack came past a minute ago and said dinner was ready,” Michael said. “I told him I’d bring you out to the dining room once you were ready.”

“Okay, great,” says Ray. He combs his hair with his fingers for lack of anything better to do the job with, and Michael shows him where the dining room is. It’s not like the house is massive or anything. Ray would probably have been able to find the dining room without a problem, but right now he’d rather stick close to Michael, just in case. Michael probably feels the same way.

The dining room is more of a nook tucked in between the kitchen and living room, separated by a half-wall on one side and the kitchen counter on the other. Geoff is setting out bowls of mashed potato and beans on the table, alongside a platter of what looks like meatloaf and a basket of bread rolls. The food smells incredible and Ray’s stomach immediately growls loudly. He’d feel embarrassed if these guys hadn’t literally picked him up off the street the night before. Fuck it, they’ll have to take him as they find him.

He has every intention of asking for seconds and seeing just how far their good Samaritan thing can be pushed, but halfway through his first serve he begins to struggle. He might have been a bit over-enthusiastic about loading his plate, but it’s not his fault. He has no way of knowing how long this generosity will last or how many more meals they can squeeze out of these guys. He needs to make the most of it while he can.

Geoff tells him he can go lie down and rest once dinner is done, and Ray would put up an argument if he wasn’t so exhausted that even staying awake through the meal is an effort. Fucking humiliating. But whatever, it’s fine, and he has a bed to sleep in and a door which locks.

His other worries will just have to wait until tomorrow.

***

Ray goes back to the guest room straight after dinner. It’s probably lucky he didn’t fall asleep at the table, with how much his eyes were drooping. Michael goes with him, even though Jack invites him to watch TV with he and Geoff. Maybe Michael doesn’t want to leave Ray alone, or maybe he just doesn’t trust them enough yet to hang out with them without backup. It’s fine. It’s probably for the best that he and Geoff have a chance to talk some more, anyway.

Geoff starts clearing the table, and Jack fills the sink. They settle into the rhythm of washing and drying, and then Geoff says, “They’re both going to need a change of clothes. Or several.”

“Yeah, and that’s just for starters,” Jack agrees. “We can get some stuff tomorrow, I guess, but Ray’s probably not up to wandering around a Target trying on clothes.”

“No. Michael would be fine, but...”

“I don’t think he’d want to leave Ray here, either by himself or with one of us.”

“Exactly.” Geoff dries the last plate and glares at the stack on the counter, as though placing the plate he’s holding on top is a puzzle he can’t manage to solve. Jack tries not to laugh at him.

“I guess one of us should go and the other one can stay here with the kids.”

“With the kids,” Geoff snickers. “You make us sound like parents.”

“Well, that sort of happens when you take a pair of teenagers in off the streets.”

“You’re the one who did that.”

“Oh, please,” says Jack. He’s not falling for this. “It’s exactly what you wanted, and you know it.”

“Yeah.”

The kitchen is clean, and Jack lets the water out of the sink. Without needing to discuss it, they head into the living room and put the TV on. Jack finds the most horrible reality show he can, partly because it’ll piss Geoff off and partly because it won’t distract them from the conversation they need to have.

“How long do you think they’ll be staying here?” Jack asks.

"As long as Ray needs to recover, I guess. Maybe we can find their parents or something and get them to go home."

"Maybe," says Jack doubtfully. "But if they're not with their parents now, there's probably a reason for it."

"Yeah, but... shit, they must have some family somewhere. They can't just go back onto the streets."

"No," Jack agrees. "There's got to be someone we can call. CPS or something. Someone who knows what to do." He didn't really think this far ahead when he convinced the kids to come and stay; he'd only been thinking that he felt bad for them and it would make Geoff happy to know they were somewhere safe.

"As soon as they get wind of us doing anything like that, they'll bolt."

“Yeah, you're probably right,” Jack admits. “But I think if we take things slowly, help them feel comfortable here and try to get them to trust us a bit, it might be okay.”

Geoff frowns and brings up something Jack has been trying to avoid thinking about. “I wonder how much school they've missed.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shit.”

“Do you think we could get them enrolled in school here, just for now?” Geoff asks. “The cop last night said that Michael said he was eighteen, but if that’s true then... no, fuck, that’s not true, it’s bullshit.”

“There’s no way,” Jack agrees.

“So how would we manage to enrol them in school? Do you have to be the kid’s parent to do that? Or foster parent, I guess, but... I guess we could lie, but that seems like a great way to get arrested for kidnapping...”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We should try to make them comfortable here first, and if it looks like we can convince them to stick around we should start making a few calls.”

Geoff took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. That makes sense.”

“So,” says Jack, now that Geoff has calmed down, “do you want to be the one who does the running around tomorrow, or the one who stays here?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a few minor edits to the end of the last chapter. Jack and Geoff were just getting a bit ahead of themselves :D

Geoff was kind of expecting the kids to sleep late the next morning, and it’s true that the house is quiet until he gets up and starts moving around, puts coffee on and starts cooking bacon and eggs. But he’s only been in the kitchen a few minutes when Michael appears in the doorway, fully dressed and wide awake.

When Geoff thinks about it for a second, he realises it makes sense. He doesn’t know anything about what living on the streets is like, but he imagines there aren’t too many opportunities for a lazy sleep-in.

“Hey,” he says. “I hope you slept okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Michael grunts.

“Coffee?”

Michael gives the question a lot more thought than Geoff really thinks it’s worth, but eventually he nods and says, “Sure.”

“Michael, move out of the way,” someone says behind him. Michael moves aside to reveal Ray standing behind him. He looks much better than yesterday, with some actual colour in his cheeks and the bags under his eyes, well... much less pronounced, at least, if not completely gone.

Geoff offers Ray coffee as well, and he gives the offer the same intense contemplation that Michael had, until Geoff says, “Or if you kids would rather, there’s orange juice or water, or tea, or, um... milk?”

“Water’s fine,” says Ray, and he’s already taking a glass from the drying rack by the sink. “Thanks. This is all great.”

Geoff serves them both a generous helping of bacon and eggs, along with Jack who finally makes an appearance. He hadn’t failed to notice the night before the way both Michael and Ray attacked their meals, only to run out of steam about halfway through. Lack of proper nutrition over a long period of time, he figures. Once they’ve got a few days of regular meals behind them, they’ll both feel a lot better. Maybe he should have prepared something a bit lighter for breakfast, but on short notice there were only so many options available. He’ll have to get Jack to go grocery shopping while he’s out today. Fuck, Jack’s going to cash in so many favours off of this.

He offers them seconds even though neither kid manages to clear their plates. They both decline, but Ray jumps straight up to clear the plates from the table.

“You don’t have to do that,” Geoff insists weakly. There’s a voice in his head, sounding a lot like his mom and saying that there’s nothing wrong with getting the kids to do a few chores around the place. But Ray’s still hurt, and Geoff is still thinking of them both more as guests than as people who they hope to have stick around for a while.

“No, no, it’s fine,” says Ray. “Least I could do. _We_ could do,” he adds with a pointed look at Michael. Michael sighs dramatically and gets up to help.

“I need to go out and run some errands today,” Jack says casually as they’re cleaning up. Well, he tries to say it casually. Neither Michael nor Ray seems even slightly fooled, they know something’s up even if Geoff doesn’t think they know what it is. “Do you guys need anything?” Jack asks.

“No, we’re good,” says Michael.

“Are you sure?” Jack presses. “The bathroom has everything you need? Is there any food you guys like that I could pick up? Or what about...”

It seems like Geoff and Jack are both taking turns to forget that they’re trying not to push the kids too hard. Ray says, “No, it’s fine, thanks. You’ve given us plenty already, we’re good.”

Michael, meanwhile, says, “No, I already said we’re good. Jesus, we’re not fucking helpless. We’ll speak up if there’s an issue, I swear.”

Geoff and Jack exchange a glance. “Alright,” says Jack. “I’m gonna head off now, then. I’ve got my phone, Geoff. I’ll try to be back by twelve.”

“Have fun,” Geoff says without really thinking about it. Jack flips him off, which reminds Geoff that the errands he has to run are more business than pleasure. Still, he’s started to wonder if Jack hasn’t got the better end of the deal, here. He’s not the one stuck in the house with a couple of prickly teenagers he doesn’t know. What is Geoff even supposed to do with them?

Of course, he only has to walk into the living room to see an answer to that question. He and Jack own one of every game console known to man, and an impressive library of games to go with them. It’s part of the job, really.

The Xbox is connected to the TV currently. It usually is. “Hey,” says Geoff, as Michael and Ray are stacking the last of the dishes on the counter for him to put away. “Do you guys want to play some games?” To illustrate his point, he grabs a few boxes at random from the stack sitting on the TV stand, and he can tell from the gleam in Michael and Ray’s eyes that he’s made the right move.

“Hell, yes,” says Ray, and it’s the most animated Geoff has seen him yet.

“What do you want to play? We’ve got a lot of shooters, some RPGs...”

“I don’t fucking care, just stick something in and give me the controller,” says Michael.

Ray snickers and mutters something which sounds suspiciously like “That’s what she said,” which prompts a quiet argument about whether or not that makes sense. Geoff blocks it out as much as he can and opens the case for Halo, because why the fuck not. Of course, it doesn’t actually have the disc for Halo inside it. Jack is always getting on Geoff’s case about not putting the disc away in the right case, but whatever. Sometimes a man just doesn’t want to fuck around looking for the right case to put the old game away, he just wants to start playing a new and awesome game immediately. He’s sure the kids will enjoy playing Rainbow Six Siege just as much.

He leaves the kids to their own devices and goes to put away the dishes. He can hear them loud and clear, even over the clattering of dishes and banging of cupboard doors, as they argue and trash talk each other. He should probably say something about the amount of swearing which is going on, but he’s not sure he could do it with a straight face.

Once everything is put away, Geoff grabs a book and takes a seat in the armchair in the corner of the living room, the better to see what nonsense the kids are getting up to.

They’re playing one of Geoff’s favourite maps. Michael is firing constantly and shouting every time an enemy fails to drop dead, while Ray is quietly and calmly sneaking around picking off bad guys. At least, he is until Michael mistakes him for an enemy and shoots him six times in the head.

“God damn it, Michael, what the fuck!” Ray yells. He winces and takes a few exaggeratedly deep breaths.

“Well why were you sneaking around like that, huh? Next time give me some kind of signal.”

“Signal like what? Hey Michael, it’s me, the guy who’s carrying the mission. Don’t shoot me in the fucking face?”

“Carrying the mission my ass! I’ll show you who’s carrying the fucking mission!” says Michael, and then promptly gets killed. The words ‘Mission Failed’ flash up on the screen while Michael and Ray continue to bicker about whose fault it was. Geoff snickers, although he notices from the scores that they didn’t do so badly, assuming they haven’t played the game before. He’s tempted to ask to join in, but he’d probably be cramping their style.

By the time Jack gets home, Ray and Michael have successfully completed three missions, spent a good hour murdering each other in Halo, and played every single available track on Mario Kart. Geoff finally gave in and asked to compete in the last round of Mario Kart. He came dead last, but it was worth it to see Michael’s expression when Geoff hit him with a blue shell four times in a row.

Jack staggers through the door with his arms weighed down with bags, and raises his eyebrows at Geoff. “Working hard, I see,” he comments.

Geoff shrugs. He did one load of laundry which he still has to move to the drier, and squirted some cleaner into the toilet, and that’s about it. But on the other hand, the kids have started to warm up to him a little.

“Is there more in the car? I’ll give you a hand,” he says.

Once he gets outside, he sees there’s a lot more in the car. Jack really did go to town. Not only are there the groceries and a few bags full of clothes from Target, there’s also a box from Ikea which, according to the picture on the lid, contains a bed and a foam mattress.

“Who’s going to put that together?” Geoff asks. Jack smirks at him.

“Not it,” he says. “I’ve done my share for the day. This afternoon I’m gonna sit on my ass on the couch playing video games with the kids, and you can clean up the house.”

That’s fair enough really, Geoff can’t even bitch about it. He does anyway, of course, because it’s what Jack expects, but he doesn’t mean it. Much.

***

When Jack said he was going to go run some errands, Michael assumed he was talking about buying groceries and whatever other boring shit a pair of old gay dudes need. Dentures? High waisted pants? Whatever. Who gives a fuck.

Instead, Jack returns with an entire trunk full of shit for him and Ray. It pisses Michael off. 

"We never asked for any of this," Michael insists as Jack tries to hand over a bag of clothes.

"We know," says Jack. "It's fine. It's just some stuff Geoff and I thought you could use. You don't have to do anything for it. It's no big deal."

"No kidding we don't have to do anything for it, asshole," Michael snaps, snatching the bag from Jack's hand. "You went and did all this without our say so, and now you're trying to pretend we owe you for it? Fuck you."

"Michael," Ray mutters from behind him. He looks pretty disapproving. Michael grumbles under his breath. Ray doesn't understand. The worst thing that can happen is for other people to realise you're weak. That ship's already sailed with Jack and Geoff, of course, but that just makes it all the more important to conceal any vulnerabilities they're not already aware of.

But Ray's the one who needs their help, and it would be really shitty of Michael to fuck it up for him. He hands the bag to Ray and accepts a second bag from Jack. 

"Thanks, I guess," Michael mutters.

"You're welcome," says Jack, smiling. Asshole. If he was a jerk about the whole thing it would be much easier to hate him. 

"I bet these clothes are ugly as shit," Michael says, loud enough Jack can probably hear him, quiet enough for plausible deniability.

"Well, why don't you take them to your room and have a look," says Jack in a maddeningly even tone. "We can always exchange anything you don't like or which doesn't fit."

What a _dick _.

Of course, even in the guest room they can't get any fucking peace. Geoff is in there putting together a fucking bed, like he thinks Michael is too much of a fucking pussy to sleep on a fucking cot. Michael dumps the clothes on Ray's bed and glowers at the mess occupying the rest of the room.

"The cot was fine," he says, even though he knows by now that there's no point. He's had this argument with Geoff a couple of times already.

Geoff smiles at him like nothing's fucking wrong. Michael feels weird, like his skin is too tight and every movement he makes is bigger than he means it to be. "It's no trouble," Geoff says. "And you never know when an extra bed in the guest room will come in handy."

Michael breathes out hard and clenches his fist. It pisses him off how Geoff won't even fight him. And that he refuses to reveal his true reasons for doing all this, whatever they might be. Why is he making things so hard?

Geoff takes a screwdriver and fits two wooden boards together. Michael can't really picture how all this is going to turn into a bed, but whatever. It's not his fucking problem.

"We can keep the room laid out the same way, or if you want, we can put the beds against the other wall instead. What do you think? It might give you guys a bit more space."

For some reason, that's the final straw. "Do whatever the fuck you want," Michael snaps. "You will anyway."

He turns around and storms out of the room. He doesn't want to see Jack either, so he turns left instead of right which brings him to a door at the opposite end of the hallway. Through the pane of glass in the middle of it, he can see that the door opens into the back yard, and right now nothing sounds more appealing than a bit of air and space, so Michael opens the door and heads outside.

It's a nice enough yard. Lawn which is a bit patchy in the middle, a couple of shady trees along the back fence. The back door opens onto a deck, and there's a covered-up barbecue to one side. Michael jumps down onto the grass and flops down to lie on his back. The day is more overcast than sunny, more windy than calm. He'd try to see shapes in the clouds but what it resembles more than anything is the mess inside his head.

Michael hears a door open and twitches, but it's just Ray. He descends the steps from the deck to the lawn, holding the rail like an old man. Michael feels like shit. Ray's still hurt, but here he is running around after Michael because he can't keep his shit together.

Ray awkwardly sits down next to Michael, who tries to avoid looking at him. The anger is starting to wear off, leaving him feeling guilty and stupid like it always does.

"What the hell is your issue?" Ray asks, and he doesn't say it like he's pissed or anything, but Michael still feels ashamed.

"I don't know," Michael mutters. "These guys are just assholes."

It's laughably not true, but whatever. They're pissing Michael off, therefore they're assholes. It doesn't have to make sense.

"Right," says Ray, in that infuriating tone which means he doesn't believe Michael but isn't going to argue with him. "Do you want to leave?"

"No!" says Michael, sitting up. "We can't. You're still hurt."

Ray grimaces. "No point sticking around here if you're just gonna be pissy and miserable the whole time. I'm not hurt that bad, we don't have to stay put if you really hate it that much."

There's a question there which Ray doesn't actually put into words, but Michael can hear it anyway. "I don't hate it here," he admits, quietly as though that will lessen the impact.

"Oh?" says Ray. Fucker doesn't even have the manners to pretend to be surprised.

"It's nice, I just. We'll have to leave eventually and the longer we stay, and the nicer it is, the more it's gonna suck."

"Hm." Shit, now Ray looks about as depressed as Michael feels. He kind of hates himself. "Yeah, I know, but... that's how it is."

"Yeah," Michael mutters, embarrassed. "Don't worry about it, I'll stop being such an asshole." He will, even if it kills him. He promises himself.

But Michael's promises to himself aren't worth shit apparently, because it's only a little while later that he's helping Geoff get dinner ready and everything goes to hell. Geoff asks him to peel some potatoes, and Michael does his best, but it's not as easy as it looks. He finishes one potato, and okay, maybe it's kind of a mess, but does it really matter if he didn't manage to remove every square millimeter of skin? Michael doesn't think so. He picks up the next potato, which is a pretty weird shape. It's hard to get at with the peeler. Maybe he can just cut that bit off?

And then Geoff turns around and says, "Jesus, Michael, do I need to enrol you in some kind of remedial potato peeling class?" and all that frustration he's managed to suppress comes rushing back in.

"Fuck you, douchebag! You think you're so fucking funny?"

Geoff raises his eyebrows. He doesn't even look mad, just kind of surprised, and it makes Michael angrier. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"Okay, whatever, it's fine," says Geoff, sighing. "Look, I'll show you how to..."

"No, you know what, get fucked! You do one nice thing for us and suddenly you think I'm your slave and I have to jump when you say? I'm trying to help out like you asked but it's just not fucking good enough, right?"

Geoff rolls his eyes. Yes, now he's starting to look ticked off. Fucking finally.

"Would it kill you to accept a little help for once without flipping out about it?" Geoff snaps.

"Oh yeah, because you're saint fucking Geoff! You crack the shits when the potatoes aren't done right, because you're just that fucking cool! It's amazing you let a fucking loser like me even set foot in your house. I should kiss your fucking feet for it!"

"Jesus christ." Geoff rubs his forehead. "No, but you know what, you're being an asshole right now, Michael. I don't wanna share my house with assholes."

A little stab of fear hits Michael right in the chest. He ignores it and doubles down.

"Oh yeah? Well, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. You want me gone, just say the word."

Geoff sighs as though he just can't deal with this anymore, which is bullshit. "Can you just go to your room or something, Michael? You're giving me a headache."

Michael does, even though Geoff isn't his dad and in no way has the authority to send him to his room or anywhere else. He's probably pushed his luck enough for one night.


	5. Chapter 5

Hours later, when Geoff has calmed down and had a chat with Ray, he taps lightly on the door to the guest bedroom. There's no answer, so he taps again, a bit louder.

"What?" Michael asks from behind the door. Geoff takes that as an invitation and opens the door.

Michael is sitting on his bed, the new one that Geoff only finished putting together a few hours ago. It has two drawers under it for storage, which Geoff thought was a pretty useful idea when he saw it, but he doesn't think the kids have put anything in them yet. 

"You didn't come out for dinner," says Geoff. "We saved you a plate."

Michael shrugs. "You said I had to go to my room. I figured I had to stay here."

That makes Geoff feel pretty guilty. Yeah, no one had gone to let Michael know dinner was ready. For Geoff's part, he hadn't felt up to dealing with Michael at the time. Perhaps the others had felt the same way; he didn't know. In his defence, he hadn't thought Michael would need any encouragement to leave his room if he was ready to do so, no matter what Geoff had said.

"Well. I wanted to talk to you, too." 

Michael stiffens. "Yeah? So talk," he said. Geoff realises Michael hasn't looked him in the face since he entered the room. His hands are down at his sides, clenched tight into fists.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry about that argument earlier. I should have realised you probably haven't had the chance to do a lot of cooking, and I shouldn't have made fun of you."

Michael appears to have no clue how to react. He looks at Geoff for one very short second, looks away, frowns and goes slightly red. Geoff braces himself, because he's not done, and that was the easy part.

"I promise, if there's anything you don't know or you're not sure about, you can ask me. It's fine. I won't be mad, or make fun of you. And I... I want you to agree that, if there's a problem or if I've done something that bothers me, you'll let me know so I can fix it. I want you to stay, but it'll be easier if we're not constantly at each other's throats."

Michael blinks, swallows. He says, "I can stay?" and it's the way he tries to pretend he doesn't care which gets to Geoff. His voice is low and kind of rough, and he does sound pretty unconcerned except for the way his voice cracks a bit on the word 'stay'. This fucking kid will be the death of him.

"Yeah," says Geoff. "Of course you can stay."

Michael finally looks at him and holds his gaze. His eyes are narrowed suspiciously and his jaw is set in a way which warns Geoff against trying any bullshit. "Why?"

The truth is Geoff never considered making Michael leave - well, not seriously, anyway - but Geoff thinks it would be more truthful to explain what prompted him to initiate this talk instead. "Ray and I had a talk."

Michael turns away again, scowling.

"He didn't say that much, really," Geoff insists. The last thing he needs is for the two kids to start fighting. Not when Ray seems to be the only one who has a clue what's going on in Michael's head. "But he pointed out some stuff I might want to do differently, which is cool. I don't want to do something if it's gonna bother you. And... well, I don't want you to yell at me about stuff if it's something I can easily stop doing, if I know what it is. So... well, what do you think? Want to give it a try?"

"Fine," Michael says. That's a start, but he's kind of slumped and not looking at Geoff again, so Geoff's not sure he's really taken all this in.

"I'll try not to do things that upset you, and if I do, you should tell me so I can stop doing it," Geoff repeats, just to make sure Michael knows what they're agreeing to.

"I said fine!" Michael snaps, but he immediately stops and visibly restrains himself. "It's fine. You don't have to go on about it."

"Cool," says Geoff lightly. "So, you hungry?"

***

Geoff's talk with Michael must have gone okay, because ever since then Michael has been a lot easier to get along with. Still a little prickly, sure, but nothing like he was. He's also watching Jack and Geoff a lot, like he's trying to figure them out. Maybe he was doing that before, but now he's being really obvious about it. Jack notices, and figures he might as well take advantage.

"Hey Geoff, can you put your dishes in the sink if you're done with breakfast, please?"

Geoff gives him a weird look, probably because Jack said please instead of something like, "don't leave your dirty dishes on the table like a fucking animal, you lazy shit." Jack tilts his head subtly towards Michael, trying to send the message, "we should be setting a goddamn example here."

Geoff must get it, because he says, "oh, sure. Sorry," instead of accusing Jack of acting like his mother. 

After all the breakfast things are cleared away and the kids are safely absorbed in some game or other, Jack corners Geoff in their bedroom to ask about another problem that's been on his mind.

"What are we gonna do with the kids tomorrow?"

Geoff groans, which tells Jack he's been wondering the same thing but hasn't come up with an answer. "Fuck, I dunno, " he says. "I mean... they should be fine here on their own. They're old enough." He doesn't mention what Jack is worrying about - that it might not be a great idea to leave two kids they barely know alone in their house.

"What if they... run off?" Jack asks.

"I don't think they will. Not while Ray's hurt," says Geoff. He doesn't sound sure, though. Neither of them are. "I guess one of us could stay home with them."

"I would enjoy a day off," Jack says jokingly. He doesn't really feel any less worried. This is not exactly a long-term solution.

Geoff rolls his eyes at him. "Maybe once Ray's a bit better, they could come to the office with us instead. They'd probably have a great time."

"Fuck, that'll get CPS called on us for sure," Jack jokes. 

"We could make Gavin babysit them."

"Yeah, or a friendly golden retriever."

They hear a shout from the living room. It sounds like someone got someone else killed, but maybe the first someone wouldn't have done that if the second someone hadn't been such a punk-ass bitch.

Geoff says, "Maybe if we get them set up with a game early enough in the morning, they won't even notice if we leave for eight hours."

"Great idea. But which game?"

They spend another ten minutes coming up with ridiculous suggestions, until Jack says, "As fun as this is, it sounds like they're having a lot more fun out there. I'm gonna go see if I can get in on that."

The kids are playing Halo, and Jack manages to talk his way into joining in. A few rounds later, Geoff joins in as well. They play kids vs adults for a few rounds, and prove to be pretty evenly matched. Then they start mixing it up, and Jack teams up first with Ray, then with Michael. It turns out that Ray is really fucking good at Halo, and Michael's not bad either even if he spends most of his time trying to create the biggest possible explosions. After lunch, they switch to Mario Party, which Geoff wins thanks to a streak of lucky rolls even though he sucks at all the minigames. It's awesome.

***

Apparently, Jack and Geoff don't trust them enough to leave them alone in the house, so Jack is going to stay home on Monday to keep an eye on them. Of course, they don't say 'we think you might steal our shit or start dealing drugs out of our living room'. They say it's in case Ray needs anything, but Michael knows better.

It's fine. He can't really blame them, and Jack's alright. Doesn't tend to piss him off as much as Geoff does. Of course, Michael has been trying to remember what Geoff said to him, and he can admit that he was maybe partly at fault in all their arguments, but whatever.

Michael wonders if they're planning on having someone stay home with him and Ray every day until they leave. That can't be good - there's no way they can keep that up for long. All the more reason for them to want Ray and Michael gone sooner.

Jack leaves them in the living room with a stack of games and makes himself scarce. Apparently there's work he can do from home? Michael realises he doesn't even know what the guys do.

He and Ray play games for a while, but they've played a lot of games over the past few days, and although Michael can hardly believe it, it's starting to wear thin.

The game they’ve been playing has some wickedly loud menu music. Michael leaves it looping and looks at Ray. 

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

Ray shrugs. "Pretty good. I hardly even notice it anymore."

Michael's pretty sure that's bullshit, but whatever. "How long do you think they'll let us stay for?" he asks. He hates admitting it, but everything he was worried about is coming true. It's nice to have a proper bed to sleep in, and not have to worry about getting attacked in his sleep. He likes not being cold or hungry. And fuck it's been great to be able to play the new video games without having to scrounge for change and debate whether to spend it at the arcade or save it for something more practical. Michael could get used to this, but he can't afford to.

"Well they bought you an entire bed, so probably a while."

"Good," says Michael. "That's good." It's not good. It's a bad thing, and Michael wishes the little spark of happiness inside him would realise that.

"Seriously," says Ray. "I don't think they're gonna toss us out on the street."

Michael nods and picks up his controller again. He has to remember that Ray is a lot more trusting than he is, and Ray's the one who this is for anyway. That means it's Michael's job to pay attention and keep him safe.

Jack does reappear a few times throughout the day, joining them for a round of Mario Kart here, a session of Halo there, but mostly he's off doing other things. He emerges with a vacuum at one point, and makes Michael and Ray get up so he can vacuum around the couch, but mostly he stays put in what Michael assumes is a home office doing fuck knows what.

At about six o'clock Jack starts putting dinner together in the kitchen. Michael probably wouldn't have noticed, but Ray gets up to help him, the fucking brown-noser. And suddenly being left on his own to complete what is supposed to be a co-op mission isn't exactly fun, so he pauses the game to sit at the counter and watch.

Ray is even more hopeless in the kitchen than Michael is, but Jack doesn't seem that bothered, even when he has to explain the difference between spaghetti and fettuccine. He doesn't make fun of Ray like Geoff did with Michael. He feels a brief flare of resentment, but he tries to remind himself that he and Geoff have sorted that out, and things have been better since they talked.

Ray doesn't even seem all that embarrassed that he doesn't know things, and he doesn't get defensive when Jack has to teach him to use the can opener or anything else. It occurs to Michael that this might actually give Ray an advantage rather than making him vulnerable. He's so much more likeable than Michael is; so much easier to get along with. It's easy to see why Jack and Geoff might want him around, even though they're already starting to get tired of Michael's bullshit.

Michael tries to suppress the envy he's feeling. This is a good thing. Ray needs somewhere safe to stay for the time being, and it's good that he's getting along so well with Jack. If Michael wanted to get along with these guys he could. He'd just have to stop being such an asshole, but Michael already knows from long experience that being an asshole is built in. It's just how some people are, and he's one of them.

Geoff gets home just as they're serving dinner, like Jack planned it that way or something. He says, "Honey, I'm home," like he's in some kind of sitcom.

Jack rolls his eyes and says, "How was work, dear?"

"Oh, the usual. Gavin took what was supposed to be a thirty minute video and ruined it by getting killed in the first ten minutes. You know. And Ryan put up... you know what, I'm not even gonna tell you. You'll see it tomorrow."

"Can't wait," says Jack dryly.

Geoff looks over to Michael and Ray. "I'm going to stay home with you two tomorrow. Did you guys have a good day?"

Michael says, "Yeah." Ray nods. He's not sure what else to add. Geoff probably isn't interested in hearing about how they beat a game he probably finished over a year ago.

"Actually, Michael, I was thinking... would you like to come in to work with me tomorrow?" Jack asks. "I'm not sure Ray's up to it yet, but you might enjoy it."

That sounded boring as shit. "What is it you guys even do?" Michael asks.

"We work at Rooster Teeth," says Geoff, like Michael is supposed to know what that is. He takes in Michael's blank expression and clarifies, "We make achievement guides for video games, and film let's plays, and do some other stuff."

"You mean your job is basically playing video games?" says Ray. 

That sounded fucking _awesome _. 

"Eh, that sounds okay, but I think I'll just hang out here," Michael says. There's no way he's gonna leave Ray here by himself for a whole day.

"You should go," says Ray. 

"What?" Michael snaps, spinning around to stare at him.

"Yeah, you should go. It sounds fun. Check it out, tell me some cool stories when you get home. Let me get a break from you worrying about me."

"Fuck you," Michael says weakly. He hopes Ray can't tell, but his feelings are hurt. Other people might get tired of him and his bullshit, like Geoff and probably Jack and even his own family, but Ray never has. Oh god, is this it? Has he finally used up Ray's last bit of patience? "Fine, I didn't want you to feel left out, but I guess I'll just go have an awesome time while you sit around the house like an invalid."

Ray does look a bit guilty, so maybe Michael didn't do as good a job hiding his hurt as he'd hoped. But whatever, it doesn't matter. He should feel guilty, the asshole.


	6. Chapter 6

Ray's been sleeping heavily - at least, heavily for him. When he wakes up the next morning Michael's already got up and had a shower. He's deciding which shirt to wear over the sweat pants Jack bought him, like he cares what kind of impression he makes.

"Hurry up, or you won't have time to do your makeup," Ray teases.

Michael says, "Fuck you," but it's kind of perfunctory, like he's not even paying attention. Ray feels pretty guilty. He knows what he did was shitty, implying that he wanted a break from Michael to get him to accept Jack's invitation, but the opportunity was too good to miss. He can't do what he needs to do with Michael in the house.

At least Michael seems excited to be going to the office. He has a million questions for Jack about what he's working on and what he's doing today. It does sound pretty cool. Ray starts to feel a bit envious. Maybe he'll get a chance to see the office too sometime.

Jack and Michael leave for the day, and Ray gives Geoff a look. "So, it's just us."

"Uh-huh," says Geoff absently. He starts clearing the table, so Ray gets up to help. They get the kitchen cleaned up, and then Geoff says, "I've got some phone calls to make. You can entertain yourself for a while, right?"

"Uh... sure," says Ray. Geoff disappears into his office and Ray shrugs and goes to pick out an Xbox game he hasn't tried yet. Geoff probably just has some work that can't be put off.

Ray gets four achievements and completes five Grand Theft Auto missions. Two hours pass and he starts to wonder what's keeping Geoff. Maybe he's waiting for Ray? Maybe he's the one who's supposed to initiate this.

Ray pauses the game and gets up. His wound still hurts when he moves around too much, but it's not too noticeable the rest of the time. He walks across the house to Geoff's office. The door is closed. He hesitates before lightly knocking.

Geoff opens the door. "Ray? Is everything alright?" he asks.

"Yeah..." says Ray. Geoff is still so slow to react, not making a move at all. Is Ray going to have to do all the work here? "Jack and Michael aren't here."

Geoff gives him an odd look. "No. Are you bored already?"

For fuck's sake. Ray's mouth feels dry; he licks his lips, trying to make it seductive, but he's nervous now and he probably looks like a tool. "No, I just thought... we could have some time together." Fuck, that sounded stupid. He sounds so stupid, but whatever, it's not like Geoff invited him to stay so he could listen to him talk. He puts a hand on Geoff's waist. Geoff stiffens, but doesn't move until Ray runs his hand across Geoff's stomach to his belt buckle. 

Geoff bats his hand away and takes a big step back into the study, bumping into his desk chair. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks. His voice goes kind of squeaky, and Ray would find it funny if he wasn't busy feeling humiliated.

"Ah... fuck," says Ray. Maybe he can play this whole thing off as a misunderstanding? "Um... never mind. I guess I got the wrong idea."

Geoff is still staring at him, his expression slowly shifting from startled to horrified. Fuck. Ray's probably not going to be able to laugh this one off. He probably shouldn't anyway. A new, alarming thought occurs to him.

"You guys don't want Michael instead, do you? I swear to god, if you touch him I'll fucking kill you."

Stupid, stupid, stupid. What is he doing? When Michael threatens people they take him seriously, but Ray is a short nerdy loser, and Geoff knows he got out of the hospital less than a week ago. "Look, Michael's cute or whatever but he hasn't got a clue. If you... I... you won't be disappointed, I swear, you can have me right now, whatever you want."

"Ray, please stop talking," says Geoff. He looks really upset. "I'm not interested in either of you like that. Jack isn't either." 

Jesus, Ray has fucked this up so bad. He'd assumed the guys had an ulterior motive for giving him and Michael a place to stay, but he's obviously miscalculated. Fuck, the do-gooders are so much worse to deal with than the perverts. Ray knows how to steer the latter.

"Why did you think I wanted that?" Geoff asks. "Did I do something wrong? Ray, god... I'm so sorry for whatever it was, I never meant to make you feel like that was something you needed to do."

If Ray can't convince Geoff and Jack that he's worth keeping around, then this whole exercise won't be anything more than a very brief holiday from the streets, exactly what Michael was worried about. 

"You didn't, I just fucked up. I'm... fucked up," Ray babbles. Shit, what if Geoff doesn't feel comfortable having him in the house anymore? He should have just left it, waited for Geoff to make a move if he was going to. Now he's probably ruined things for Michael as well. "You won't... please don't tell Michael about this. He doesn't need to know, right?"

Geoff doesn't respond. He still looks upset, but he doesn't seem to know what to say.

"I'm just gonna... go..." Ray mumbles, and he bolts. He hustles through the living room without stopping and goes into the guest bedroom like he thinks he can hide in there, like Geoff won't know exactly where he is. He'd hide under the bed if he was up to that kind of athleticism right now, but instead he just curls up on top of it, the better to stress out about how badly he fucked up.

***

"Hey Geoff, everything okay?"

It had taken Geoff about ten minutes of freaking before he concluded that he absolutely couldn't handle this by himself and needed to call in backup, and five seconds more for him to call Jack's cell.

"Jack," he says, and then he doesn't know what to say so he just goes silent.

It must be obvious from his voice that something's wrong, because Jack sounds pretty worried when he asks, "What's happened?"

"Um... I don't know where to start."

"Did Ray do something?" Jack asks. He sounds confused. Geoff can't blame him, he knows they've both started thinking of Michael as the one who's likely to cause trouble. God, they've got no idea.

"He made a pass at me," Geoff manages to choke out at last. God, just saying it makes him feel gross. He braces himself for Jack's condemnation.

"He what? Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure! He made it pretty fucking clear!" Geoff snaps. God, he's shaking. He doesn't know what to do.

"But... why?" Jack asks.

"I don't know, Jack! I don't know what I did. I swear, I didn't want him to do anything like that, I didn't try to get him to do anything, I wouldn't do that..."

"Okay, okay. Geoff, it's okay. I know you wouldn't." Jack is sounding even more concerned now. Jesus, Geoff must sound like a fucking wreck. "Do you want me to come home early?"

Jack leaving work early is going to put them so far behind. They can do some things from home, but not everything, and they've already had to postpone recording one video because Geoff took today off. "Can you?"

Jack doesn't even hesitate before he says, "Of course." Geoff ends the call. God, he hopes Jack gets back soon.

***

Jack isn't sure what to tell Michael. Not the truth, definitely not, but he's not stupid, and when Jack says, "Let's make it a half-day today," he's clearly not fooled.

It doesn't take that long to get back to the house, which is a shame. Jack's not ready to deal with whatever is going on with Ray, but he can hardly abandon Geoff to deal with it by himself, so he'll just have to suck it up.

No one is in the living room when they step inside. A game is paused on the TV, but Ray is nowhere in sight. The door to the study is closed so Jack knocks on it.

"Who is it?" Geoff calls through the door. Jack’s tempted to make a joke but this probably isn't the time.

"It's Jack," he says. "Can I come in, or would you prefer to keep a door between us?”

Michael has disappeared somewhere - probably to find Ray and interrogate him. Poor kid. But then again, this whole mess is Ray's fault, so maybe it's fair enough that he deal with Michael for a bit.

Geoff opens the door and glowers at Jack. "That's not fucking funny, asshole," he says. He lets Jack into the room.

"What happened?" Jack asks. He still doesn't understand.

"I don't even know. I worked for a few hours and then Ray came to the study. He dropped a few hints... I didn't realise that was what he was doing, but it was... and then he tried to, like, undo my pants."

"God," says Jack, sitting down on the desk. He really had been hoping that the incident was some kind of misunderstanding. "But... why did he do that? Did you ask him why?"

"He just seemed to assume I expected it of him. And when I said no, he thought I was interested in Michael instead. That upset him - he threatened me, and then he tried to convince me it should be him, like he was trying to protect Michael by sacrificing himself." Geoff dropped his face into his hands. "Jack, am I a bad person?"

"No, Geoff. God, no." Jack tried to put a comforting hand on Geoff's shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

"But I must have done something to make him think he needed to do that. I must have done something. I don't even know what it could have been. What kind of guy doesn't even notice when he pressures a kid for sex? What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"I'm sure it was nothing you did," says Jack. He is. He's known Geoff for years, he knows what kind of guy he is. "These kids have obviously been through a lot, and it's not like we have a lot of experience dealing with this shit. I think... I think we're in over our heads, a little bit."

"Fuck, if that's not the understatement of the year. What do you think we should do? You're not suggesting giving up on this, are you?"

"No." They can't do that - it would mean throwing the kids back onto the streets, or turning them over to authorities who don't seem all that interested in helping. "We probably need to get some advice from... somewhere." Jack's already running through every person he knows, trying to figure out who might be able to help them. "In the meantime..." ugh, he's not looking forward to this, "we should probably talk to Ray."

"Ugh," says Geoff. 

They figure that Ray and Michael are probably both in the guest bedroom, a theory which is proven correct when they hear both the kid's voices coming from inside. Jack knocks on the door and they both fall silent instantly. They don't answer, so Jack says, "Can we come in?"

He can faintly hear Ray saying, "Oh, fuck." Neither of the kids invites them in, so Jack waits. Aftera few seconds, the door opens a crack to reveal Michael, who glares at him.

Before Michael can say anything, Ray appears behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and nudging him aside. "Look," he says defensively. "It was a perfectly understandable mistake to make."

"We know," says Jack. "We just want to talk to you, is that okay?"

Ray says, "Fine, whatever," but Michael, talking over him, snaps, "Fuck no!"

Ray turns around and gently pushes Michael back. "Seriously, dude, it's fine. Just chill here for a minute, ok?"

Michael listens to Ray, but he doesn't stop glaring. Jack feels like he should check to make sure Michael hasn't set him on fire with the force of his glare.

They lead Ray out to the kitchen. Jack and Geoff sit at the table, and after a brief hesitation Ray sits opposite him like a very nervous candidate at a job interview.

It becomes clear that Ray isn't going to say anything, and Geoff appears to be stuck, so Jack sucks it up and clears his throat. "We just want to understand what happened."

Ray sighs. "Look, there's nothing to understand. I'm an idiot and I fucked up because I'm an idiot. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"It's not your fault," says Geoff. "Look, whatever I did wrong, you can tell me and I'll..."

Ray groans, putting his face in his hands. "You didn't do anything," he says. "I just assumed... look, two guys find a couple of kids on the street and offer them a place to stay, you're gonna make some assumptions."

The way Ray says that, like it's just obvious, makes Jack feel kind of sick. They must have come across so sketchy.

"Then why did you agree to come stay with us?" he asks.

"Because!" says Ray like it's obvious. "It seemed like a good idea. I was hurt, and Michael was probably going to get into all kinds of shit trying to keep me out of trouble and I wasn't gonna be able to pull my weight for a while, so I just thought... well, why not? It's not that big of a deal. I've done it before."

They must look pretty horrified, because as casually as Ray tossed that bombshell out there, his expression rapidly shifts to defensive and sullen. "You guys are pretty judgemental considering you like to pick up teenagers off the street and take them home with you."

"Okay," says Jack, trying to sound soothing and mentally putting Ray's words into a box labelled 'not gonna deal with that right now'. "Sorry. So you just... assumed there was this unspoken agreement to...?"

Ray shrugs. "I mean... yeah. I was waiting for one of you to do something. But then it was pretty nice here, and Michael likes you guys, and neither of you was doing anything. And I thought if I, you know... maybe we could stay longer."

"Michael likes us?" says Geoff incredulously. Jack gives him a look, but he's kind of intrigued by that too. He was under the impression that Michael didn't like _anything _.

Ray laughs. "Yeah. He acts like a dick, but it's just ‘cause he wants to look tough. He wants to impress you guys."

"Oh," says Geoff thoughtfully. 

"He'll kill me if he knows i told you that, though, so... you know, don't tell him."

"Right."

"Ray..." says Jack. He's not sure how to say what he needs to say, but he's going to have to figure it out. "It sounds like you were hoping to be able to stay here for a while."

Ray shrugs. "Guess I fucked that right up," he says.

"Well..." Jack glances at Geoff, who looks nervous but gives him a nod. "Geoff and I have talked about this, and we'd be happy to have you two stay with us for... I don't know. Long term. Not in exchange for anything," he adds quickly, because apparently this is something which needs to be spelled out.

Ray kind of freezes, like he doesn't know how to react. "...seriously?" he says. It sounds like he's expecting Jack to say that was a joke.

Jack nods and kicks Geoff in the ankle. He tries to be subtle about it, but that doesn't work out.

"Yeah, seriously," says Geoff. "There's some stuff we'd have to talk about, I guess, but you kids should have someplace safe to stay."

***

Michael's kind of done with no one telling him what's going on. It was obvious when Jack decided they needed to go home in the middle of the day, but he wouldn't tell Michael anything and Michael just figured he'd have to find out on his own. When Ray wouldn't talk to him, though, that kind of hurt. Not just that he refused to say what had happened, but that he tried to tell Michael, like Jack had, that nothing was wrong.

If Michael finds out that Geoff hurt Ray or did anything to him, there's gonna be hell to pay.

He stands pressed up against the door, trying to hear what Ray and the guys are talking about in the other room. At least they're probably not arguing. After a while Michael hears footsteps approaching his door. He backs away and tries to act casual, like he wasn't just doing his best to eavesdrop on what was clearly a private conversation.

Someone taps on the door and then Geoff opens it a crack and sticks his head through. "Hey, Michael, can you come join us in the kitchen?"

Fucking finally. Michael follows Geoff to the kitchen table where Jack and Ray are still sitting. He sits next to Ray, looking at him curiously. He seems fine. Kind of tense, but not upset or anything. He transfers his gaze to Jack. 

"We've been talking with Ray, and we decided we want to ask the both of you something," Jack says. He looks like he's choosing his words carefully. "Ray brought up that you two... weren't sure how long you'd be able to stay here, but that you both like it here and would like to stay. And Geoff and I would like that as well, so we thought it would be good to have a talk about it, see what everyone wants and if that's something we could make work."

Well shit. Michael hadn't been sure what to expect, but he'd been thinking, based on everyone's weird behaviour, that it had to be something very bad. This, by contrast, sounds great. "What's the catch?"

"Well, we'd want you to agree to a few ground rules. Stuff like pitching in with the housework and taking care of your stuff, we can figure out the details later. And if you have anything you guys want to suggest for me and Geoff, you can. And... it might be tough, but we want to figure out a way to get you guys into school."

Ugh. That probably shouldn't be as much a surprise as it is. It's not really a bad thing; Michael knows that he and Ray will be a lot better off if they can finish school. He puts aside his misgivings for later.

"We think some things will be tough because we're not legally recognised as your guardians, and we... we want to try to do everything above board. It's just complicated," says Geoff. "It might help if we could ask you guys some questions."

"We're eighteen," says Ray without missing a beat.

"Bullshit. How old are you, really?"

Oh well, it was worth a try. Michael knows it's mostly his fault; Ray is older and can almost pass for eighteen with his stubble, while Michael barely looks his actual age. "We're both sixteen," Michael says quickly, hoping they'll buy it.

"Alright," says Geoff. Whew.

"If you're sixteen, you might be able to apply for emancipation," says Jack. "That's one option we can look into."

"Wait, seriously?" says Geoff. 

"Yeah. I've been doing some research."

"Huh." Geoff gives Jack a sappy look. Michael briefly debates with himself, then gives in to the impulse to pretend to gag. Whatever, if they're serious about this they should probably know what they're letting themselves in for.

"That's not funny, smartass," says Geoff, but the effect is sort of diminished by the fact he's trying not to laugh.

"The fuck is emancipation?" Ray asks.

"It means you'd be legally recognised as an adult, but you'd have to be able to show you can support yourself," says Jack. "And I think your parents have to be notified too."

Michael tenses up, and next to him he can feel Ray doing the same thing. Jack asks them gently, "Are your parents gonna be looking for you?"

"Nah, they kicked us out," says Ray, a bit too casually. Michael looks at him. Ray knows that his parents threw him out, but he's always been reticent about sharing personal information himself. Up until now, anyway. Michael is pretty sure he's lying, just like Michael was lying about being sixteen.

"Both of you?" Jack asks, but he doesn't exactly look like he doesn't believe them. Mostly he just looks sad.

"Yeah," says Ray, and Jack and Geoff don't question it.

***

Thank god for Jack, is all Geoff can think. If he hadn't been able to come home, there was a good chance he would have lost his mind. They finish talking, and the kids run off to do whatever the fuck it is they do. Jack leans back in his chair, looking drained. Geoff feels much the same way, but he still feels the need to shuffle his own chair closer and envelop Jack in a hug.

"Unf," Jack grunts. "What's this for?"

"Don't play dumb. You saved my ass just now, I had no idea what to do. I would have ended up making everything worse."

"Aw." Jack returns the hug. Yes, he gives great hugs. "Don't be hard on yourself, that must have been upsetting to deal with. I would probably have reacted the same way."

Just like that, Geoff's mood turns south again. He pecks Jack on the lips and pulls back from the hug to scrub his hands over his face. "It was upsetting. And I'm really worried about doing the wrong thing by them when they've already been through so much. Who knows what other minefields we're going to trip over?"

"They'd both probably benefit from therapy," says Jack. 

"Cool. Can I be there when you suggest that to Michael?"

"Ass," says Jack, shoving his shoulder. "Do you think Ray's up to coming in to the office tomorrow?"

"Hm. I guess so? We could ask him. I doubt he'll say no."

"Yeah. I don't either of us should be alone with him, even now we've cleared things up, just in case."

"Good call," Geoff agrees. "Did Michael like it okay? I mean, up until I called you home?"

"I think he had a blast. He got along great with Gavin. We should probably make sure not to leave them together unsupervised, though. They were egging each other on in the worst way this morning."

Geoff contemplates the idea of Gavin with a partner in crime. "Fuck. Thanks for the heads up."

***

Michael follows Ray back to their room with his mind spinning. 

"Did that seriously just happen?" he asks Ray.

"I guess so."

"I thought they were gonna kick us out! They looked so pissed."

Ray shrugs and looks kind of uncomfortable, which reminds Michael that something prompted all of this and he still doesn't know what it was. "What did you _do _, offer them sexual favours?"__

_ _Ray refuses to look at him, and suddenly Michael's joke doesn't seem quite so funny._ _

_ _"Ray," says Michael, lowering his voice, "what the fuck? Am I gonna have to murder these assholes."_ _

_ _"No, Michael, Jesus Christ. Would you sit the fuck down?"_ _

_ _Michael reluctantly sits on his bed. _ _

_ _"They didn't... okay, I might have, uh, approached Geoff, but he freaked out and I guess that's when he called Jack home? And then they said they weren't interested but that we could stay, and then we asked you to join us. Now you know everything, are you fucking happy?"_ _

_ _"I'm fucking elated," Michael grumbles, but truthfully he was probably a lot happier before he knew that Ray had been ready to resort to what was basically prostitution in order to keep a roof over their heads. _ _

_ _He flops back on the bed, and a memory comes to him unbidden of the time he'd had a bad cut which had been infected, and Ray had turned up one day with a bottle of antibiotics. And on the heels of that come a dozen other memories of times when there was something one of them wanted or needed and Ray had turned up just when Michael had given up hope of finding a way to get it with the money they needed. _ _

_ _At the time Michael had just assumed he'd stolen it, but today's events throw a new and troubling light on the whole thing._ _

_ _"Ray," he says, "remember the time we learned Gamestop was selling that secondhand DS?" _ _

_ _"Nope," says Ray flatly. _ _

_ _"But... you went on about it for weeks..."_ _

_ _"Michael, I swear to god I'd rather get stabbed another dozen times than have this conversation with you right now."_ _

_ _"Jesus, fine."_ _

_ _Michael rolls over on the bed so he's facing away from Ray and tries to think about something else, but he can't get Ray's words out of his head._ _


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably should have said something before, but consider this your obligatory disclaimer that I don't know how any of the legal/official aspects of this kind of situation would work IRL. Creative licence has been generously applied.

According to Michael, the Rooster Teeth office is the coolest place ever. Ray is pretty excited to see it, even if he's a little bit nervous. Geoff and Jack seem to be okay, but it doesn't mean the people they work with aren't assholes.

By the time they arrive at the office, it's about half-past nine. Jack pulls the car into a space in a gravel parking lot, in between a new SUV and a Honda sedan that looks like someone built it themselves from scrap parts. Geoff leads the way to the front door, promising to give Ray a tour.

What follows is a whirlwind of 'This is the kitchen, help yourself to anything unless it has someone's name on it. The bathroom's over here. Our office is this way..." interspersed with introductions. Ray is pretty sure he's not going to remember a single name. Everyone seems nice enough, but anyone can seem nice if it suits them.

It is kind of cool, Michael got that part right. The office is a large house with a huge garage attached to it, and just about every room is filled with gaming equipment and filming equipment. When they walk past the garage they see a group of people gathered around a monitor. Ray can't see what's on the screen, but they're shouting and laughing and generally appear to be having a great time.

After the tour, Geoff says, "I've got to go to a meeting," like he's on his way to be executed. "Jack's got a video to film. You guys can sit in and watch, but you'll have to keep quiet, or we can set you up in the break room. There's a PS3 in there."

That sounds ideal to Ray - staying out of the way and probably getting a chance to try out a different selection of games to the Xbox fare they've been playing for the last few days - but Michael says, "Can we watch?"

Seriously? Ugh. This sounds like Ray's idea of hell, but Jack's already saying, "Yeah, of course!" and ushering them into a cluttered office full of desks with a bewildering array of computers laid out. A few other guys are already sitting at the desks; Ray is pretty sure he met them all earlier, but just as he'd predicted, he can't remember a single name.

"You guys can sit here," Jack says, pointing to a couch against the wall. "You can talk, just keep it down. And if you need to leave the room or whatever, make sure you close the door behind you. This recording will probably take an hour or so, then we'll have other stuff to do."

Okay, that's probably not so bad. He and Michael can talk and listen to these guys play whatever, and after a while they can go do something else. Everyone in the room seems pretty busy and they're not really paying attention to Ray and Michael, which suits Ray fine.

"What game are you guys playing?" Michael asks. Ray nudges him, because didn't he _just hear _ Jack telling them to be quiet? Michael just gives him a puzzled look, while Jack answers, "It's called _Cloudberry Kingdom_. You can come over if you want, just don't like, whistle into the mics or anything."

So of course fucking Michael springs to his feet and dashes over to take a look at the setup. Ray follows him reluctantly. There really is a lot more going on in the room than he would have expected. Every computer is hooked up to two monitors; some of them three. All the guys have a mic sitting in front of them, not a crappy little headset mic but big ones on stands which probably cost hundreds of dollars each. Ray can see the game's menu screen - the art looks kind of cartoonish, but whatever, he's not the games police - and on the opposite monitor he can see what must be some kind of recording program, where a small thumbnail view of the game is playing with a bunch of other stuff going on around it.

"Is everyone ready?" Jack asks, and there's a flurry of activity from the other guys as they settle themselves in their chairs and insist that yes, they are indeed ready.

"What are we doing, Jack?" asks the next guy over. His hair is shaved super short on both sides, and dyed green for some reason. 

"We're playing _Cloudberry Kingdom _!" Jack cries, sounding ten times more excited than he did a second ago.

The game starts up, and the four guys simultaneously shout, "Aaaaugh!" Two of them are instantly killed by a ball swinging on a chain, while the two survivors are killed a few seconds later by a jet of fire.

"Oh god, I forgot that was there," groans the blond guy sitting at the far end of the room.

"Let's go again!" says the fourth guy, who Ray remembers more than the others. Not enough to remember his name, but he's mentally dubbed him as 'British accent'.

The game does actually look pretty fun, if stressful. After half a dozen attempts they use some kind of power up which slows everything down, and Jack reaches the end of the level a few tries after that. The other three guys don't make it, but it doesn't seem to matter. A new level loads and this time all four of them shoot up into the air and hit a spiky platform at the top of the screen.

"Jetpacks!" yells the British one, and they start again.

It's pretty entertaining, Ray can admit it. He could go sit back on the couch, but he wants to see what's going on. Michael definitely isn't moving; he watches, rapt, and a few levels in he says, "Hey, why don't you try landing on that platform instead?"

Instead of giving him shit for not shutting up like Jack told him to, the British one says, "Good idea!" On the next attempt he does what Michael had suggested, only to utterly fail to make the next jump. The platform is too low.

"No, Gavin, come on, you..." Michael leans over to point at the screen, while Ray contemplates strangling him. "Don't go that way, see, once you've jumped down there you bounce off that bubble and then you can reach that moving platform as it comes down."

"Michael, does 'keep quiet' mean something different on your planet, or what?" Jack asks, but he doesn't even sound mad.

"I would keep quiet if you guys didn't all suck!" Michael snaps, and fucking Christ. After the entire ordeal yesterday, Michael's going to go and get them kicked out after all. "Seriously, are you guys just not looking at the screen?"

Michael carries on like this for a while, with the other guys making snarky retorts back at him, until eventually just before another run begins, Jack takes Michael's right hand and jams his controller into it. "Okay, wise guy, you show us how it's done."

Michael is very obviously taken by surprise at this, and immediately jumps off the starting platform, somehow missing every deadly obstacle and safe landing space to fall off the bottom of the screen. He yelps indignantly while the guys cackle, but when Jack tries to take back the controller he grips it and says, "No, one more go! I wasn't expecting it that time, you asshole."

Jack lets him have a few more attempts. Michael dies from a laser, being crushed by a descending platform and being so slow that his character disappears off the left side of the screen. At last Jack insists on taking his controller back, and Michael gives it up but not without complaining that he'd nearly got the hang of it. Ray has retreated to the couch by this point. If anyone decides to get pissed at Michael for interfering, Ray can point out that he wasn't encouraging or condoning Michael's behaviour in any way.

He doesn't know when Michael's loudness started bothering him so much. It used to be entertaining to watch him be a dick to people. Of course, it never used to be anyone whose opinion Ray cared about, or whose help they needed. Michael's prickliness did a great job at keeping away people they didn't want bothering them. Ray doesn't get why he can't just tone it down around people who are. Well. Useful.

Not too long after that, they finish recording and Jack says he's got some editing to do. He takes them to the break room Geoff mentioned earlier and gets them settled with a game. Ray settles into a chair and finally feels himself relax a bit.

They play for a while, but Michael is kind of distracted. After maybe thirty minutes he pauses the game and points at the corner of the room. "You think that's plugged in?"

He's referring to a dusty PC which doesn't look like it's been used in years. "I dunno," says Ray. "Michael, don't..."

But Michael has already walked over to it and hit the power button. The PC whirrs to life, sounding like a washing machine full of nickels. "Why can't you just leave things alone?" Ray groans.

"What?" Michael asks, looking confused. "It's in the break room, right? Why would it be here if it's not meant to be used."

"Jack said we could use the PS3, not everything else."

"If he really cared, he would have said something. Jesus, when did you turn into such a pussy?"

Stung, Ray goes quiet. It's not that he's scared to piss the guys off, he just... okay, maybe he is a little bit scared. What’s wrong with playing it safe, anyway?

The computer finally boots up and Michael immediately starts poking around, finding the games folder and scrolling through it. He finds _Minesweeper_ and opens it up.

"Seriously? Was the PS3 too stimulating for you?" Ray asks.

"Shut up."

"Since when are you so into PC games anyway?"

"I dunno. I'm not, I guess, but Jeremy showed me some stuff yesterday."

Ray wants to ask who the fuck Jeremy is, but he forces himself to keep his mouth shut. Michael wasn't even gone for the whole day yesterday, but he already seems to know and get along with everyone here, while Ray can't even remember their names.

"Yeah, see?" Michael exclaims, opening up another program. Ray looks over his shoulder. It looks like a mess, with a dozen things going on at once, none of which he really understands, but Michael is clicking around the interface like he’s been doing it his whole life. "Look, you can select which window you want to record from the menu here, and then there's a thumbnail in the corner where you can see how it looks."

Michael minimises the recording program, then moves the game window and the recording around for a while, resizing the windows until he can sort of see them both on the single monitor.

"You want to make a video? This thing doesn't even have a microphone," says Ray. 

"It doesn't have to have commentary," Michael insists, but he digs around in the crap stacked on the table next to the computer until he finds a headset with an attached mic. "This'll do."

"This is gonna be the shittiest video ever," says Ray, but he drags another chair over to the table to sit on.

Michael starts a game on the hardest difficulty and puts the headset on, trying to angle the mic so it will pick up both their voices but not having much success. "I'll start," he says, clicking on the map at random. He doesn't even start in a corner, the barbarian.

"Here," says Michael, pushing the mouse towards Ray. Looks like Ray is getting involved in this bullshit whether he wants to or not.

Ray takes the mouse with a sigh, clicking a square without putting much thought into it and missing the mines largely by pure luck. He and Michael switch back and forth. Their commentary starts out pretty quiet but eventually Michael starts to get into it.

"Is this one safe? _Is it _?" Michael bellows as though his life actually does depend on it.

"I don't fucking know! Why don't you try that square instead, its a 1 and we already found the mine next to it."

"No way! Ray, that's pussy talk. Stop being a pussy."

Michael clicks on the square, which completely fails to detonate and teach Michael a much needed lesson. "Yes! Okay, your turn. Don't fuck it up!"

Ray rolls his eyes and immediately clicks on a square next to a 5. A wave of explosions flow from the center of the map out to the edges, while Michael yells with helpless fury.

"What the fuck! Why would you do that? We were so close!"

"I had a good feeling about that square," says Ray with a shrug. He's enjoying Michael's tantrum.

"You had a good feeling? Well, your good feeling was dick! Look at that!" says Michael, pointing at the screen.

"Oops," says Ray, hiding a grin. "Guess we'll have to start again."

"Oh, fuck no. You've lost all mouse privileges. I'll start again and you can fucking watch until you learn not to be a dumbass."

Michael starts another game, but he must quickly realise it's not as much fun without Ray joining in. "Ray, here. I'm gonna show you how to not die. Click here."

"Oh, cool, so... here?" says Ray, moving the cursor to the other side of the map.

"No, you fucking... over here, see, where I'm pointing?"

"Oh, you mean here." Ray moves the cursor to a different but still wrong part of the map. 

"For fuck's sake... Ray!"

After a little more of this Michael gets fed up and grabs the mouse. "I said here, dumbass." But he's been so distracted by Ray dicking around that he clicks in the wrong spot and hits a mine. "FUCK!"

The door to the break room opens and someone sticks their head in. Ray instinctively takes a half-step away from the computer as though he thinks he can pretend to have had no part in this. 

"I thought I heard some kind of ruckus in here," the guy says. It's the British one, of course. Who else would say ruckus? "Hey Michael! And Ray. What are you up to?"

Instead of telling the dude to piss of, Michael says, "Gavin! We're just messing around. We thought it would be fun to try making a video."

Thanks, Michael, for lumping him in with this, thinks Ray irritably. At least Gavin doesn't seem mad. "That's so cool! Let me see it."

So Ray has to sit there while Gavin watches Michael play back the recording. The quality really is shitty, and Ray's voice is barely audible, thank fuck, but Gavin laughs his ass off anyway.

"That was great! Have you made any others?"

"Not yet," says Michael. Ray sighs. _Yet _. Michael is making this whole thing so difficult.

"So this is your first attempt? That's awesome! People don't realise how hard it is to do good commentary until they've tried it. You should absolutely make more."

"Well, I don't know how well this computer would run anything more intense than tetris, but..."

"Oh, no, forget this piece of shit. Hey, want me to show you a few things?"

"Yeah!" says Michael. Gavin goes to the door.

"Come on, I'll take you to my office." Gavin laughs, like the mere fact that he has his own office is hilarious to him.

***

Jack is just happy that Michael and Ray seem to be keeping themselves occupied and staying out of trouble until Gavin accosts him, babbling about how they made a video with him and it's hilarious and Jack totally needs go make them upload something to RT Community. He makes Jack watch it, and it is pretty good for sure.

"Did you two have fun today?" Jack asks on the way home in the car, because it seems like the thing to do.

"It was awesome!" says Michael, and Jack gets to hear the saga all over again. Ray is pretty quiet throughout the whole ride home, and seems kind of tense although he does crack a smile a few times throughout Michael's story. Jack wonders if something's bothering him.

While they're getting dinner ready, Jack asks Geoff, "You know that old PC we've been keeping in the garage since we upgraded?"

"Yeah?" Geoff asks absently. "Oh! You think we should set it up in the kids' room?"

"Maybe. Or maybe the living room, that's what responsible adults would do, right?"

"I really wouldn't know," Geoff jokes, but after dinner they tell Michael and Ray to clean up and go out to the garage to find the computer. It's a little bit dated, but it's still a pretty good machine. The kids will definitely be able to mess around making videos with this, and if they decide to get into PC gaming it'll work for that too so long as they don't want to play the newest release of _Far Cry_ or something.

The kids realise what they're doing pretty quickly, and Michael abandons the last few dishes in the drying rack to come and investigate. Jack doesn't have the heart to tell him off, so he just calls Ray over as well.

Michael dives right in, playing with the settings in OBS and checking what games are already installed. Ray sits back and watches, but he looks interested. Everyone seems pretty relaxed and like they're having fun, so Jack decides it might be a good time to bring up a topic they need to talk about.

"We need to figure out what we're going to do about getting you guys back into school," Jack says. The good mood immediately dims a bit. Nice going, Jack. "I was thinking today that we could try to get you two some tutoring or something. Get you caught up a bit so that when you do start back at school, it's not too much of a headache for you. Uh... I don't know, I'm guessing you’ve both missed a bit of school. Have you?"

Michael shrugs and Ray ignores him. Jack forces his frustration down.

"Come on, guys. I'm not asking to make a fuss or make fun of you, it would just help to have an idea of where we're starting from. Michael, how long have you been, um, out of school for?"

Michael sighs. For a second he looks like he's working it out in his head, and then he says, "About a year."

Now it's Jack's turn to do some quick mental calculations. "So the last grade you finished was ninth?" he guesses.

"Um... yes?"

"Okay. What about you, Ray?"

Ray doesn't look pleased with the direction of this conversation at all. Jack waits until the pause grows uncomfortably long, until Ray says, "I've been on the streets for three years."

It's the closest Jack has heard him come to snapping; Ray is usually so calm and contained in contrast to Michael. For a second Jack is too distracted by his surprise to absorb what Ray said, but then it sinks in.

"Three years?" says Jack. "Since you were thirteen?"

Ray shrugs, every inch of him screaming that he doesn't want to talk about it. Jesus. That means he probably finished seventh grade at the most, and now he's old enough to be a junior. Jack rapidly reevaluates how difficult this is likely to be. It doesn't seem reasonable to dump Ray into highschool, or send him back to classes with kids three years younger than him.

"Alright," he says, because he promised he wasn't going to make a big deal of it. "Thanks. We'll see if we can organise something for you both. It'll be fine." 

Ray and Michael both go back to the computer, but they seem a bit more subdued. It's a shame, but Jack tells himself they needed to know.

***

It turns out that Rooster Teeth makes hundreds of videos and they're all on YouTube. Michael watches a few that look interesting, and then he finds that the RT community has a huge number of videos as well. He points it out to Ray. 

"We could make our own video and then upload it here, and everyone would see it," he says. 

Ray says, "What for?" but Michael can tell he's interested. Ray just worries about being the center of attention. Michael's never really been bothered by that, so it's up to him to help Ray get over it.

"We could make a guide, but I dunno... I think most of the games on this computer have already been done. Or we could just make a funny video where we fuck up and yell a lot."

"That sounds like something we'd be good at," Ray comments.

Michael's so excited about this. He loves games, and he's really enjoyed the videos he's watched so far, and he's sure they can make something just as good or even better. 

"Which game do you think?" he asks. "Look, there's Call of Duty, Resident Evil, Portal..."

"Maybe we should do Civilisation, but then our commentary is like it's a first person shooter," Ray says. Michael thinks he might be joking but who cares, the idea strikes him as hilarious.

"Fuck, yes, we _have _ to do that."

They spend a little while getting everything set up and making sure the mic is picking up their voices. Michael has never actually played a Civ game before, but it doesn't look that hard. "Which of these nations do you think could kick the most ass?"

"Uh..." Ray leans over, giving Michael what he's pretty sure is an accidental-on-purpose shove with his shoulder. "I guess the... Romans? Or maybe the Aztecs? The Aztecs kicked a lot of ass, right?"

"Sure, we'll go with that."

Michael selects the Aztecs and the game starts. A sprite appears in the middle of a green splotch on the screen,and a message pops up to tell him that it's a settler and he should use it to found a city. Fuck that.

"Shit, Ray, look at this! It's fucking nighttime everywhere except this spot right here."

"I think those are just parts of the map we haven't explored yet."

"Oh man, we better get on that. There could be fucking anything hiding in here." Michael follows the instructions to move the settler north. A second message pops up to say that he's found a good place to found a city.

"This game is fucking pushy."

"You can't have a civilisation without cities, Michael."

Michael moves the settler through a few more tiles, revealing a river with a hint of coastline at the end of it. "Can this guy swim, do you think?"

"I don't think so."

After the next move, a new figure appears next to Michael's settler. The banner its holding is red, and it's wielding what looks like a club.

"Holy fuck, what the hell! Did you see that, Ray? He just appeared out of fucking nowhere. These guys have stealth. I didn't know there'd be stealth in this game, that's bullshit!"

"You're being attacked," says Ray. 

"Oh sure, as soon as we start losing it's not us anymore, it's just me," Michael grumbles. Ray's right though. A small window has opened and in it they can see the battle taking place.

"I thought there was only one guy, why is there suddenly three of them?" Michael demands. "Our settler just bent over and shit out another two dudes, that's gotta sting."

"There's more barbarians too," says Ray. "I guess they were walking in single file. Common evasive tactic."

"Fuck, we're getting fucked!" says Michael. "Why don't these guys have any fucking weapons? The barbarians are kicking our asses with clubs and rocks!"

"I think you're supposed to build a city, and then the city can build better weapons," says Ray. 

"That's fucking stupid," Michael grumbles. The last settler dies, and some kind of game over message pops up which Michael doesn't bother to read. "Let's start over, I guess."

***

Geoff never really thought of himself and Jack as particularly quiet people until they started sharing living space with Michael and Ray. 

"It sounds like they're having fun," he says to Jack. 

"Yeah," Jack replies, but he looks distracted.

"Hey, stop worrying, alright? Have a look at this."

Geoff points Jack's attention towards the webpage he's been looking at. "What is this?" Jack asks. "Alternative schooling?"

"It's a program for kids who aren't suited for traditional school, for whatever reason," says Geoff. "Obviously, if we tried to get Ray and Michael back into school it would be a disaster. Ray's missed too much, he's going to need a lot of individual help to catch up if he wants to graduate more or less on time. And Michael could probably catch up academically, but..."

From the other room, they can hear Michael bellow, "Fucking sneak attack! I'll kill you! And your children!"

Jack snickers for a moment, then says more seriously, "Yeah, he's pretty aggressive. And I think he hates authority figures just on principle."

"Can't really blame him," says Geoff. "This might work, though. It's kind of homeschooling, supplemented by tutoring three times a week. And it's not... well, we could afford it."

Jack takes a few minutes to read the information on the page. "I guess we should give them a call," he says. "I hope the kids like this idea." 

"They seem just as worried about going back to school as we are about sending them. But we’ve got to try something, right?”

From the living room, they hear Michael yelling, "Gandhi, what the _fuck _?" Geoff and Jack snicker a little bit, but a few seconds later they can hear Michael again. "Seriously, you don't know who Gandhi is?" 

There's a pause while Ray is presumably responding. Geoff can sort of make out his voice, although it's too low to know what he's saying.

"Gandhi is like the king of India or something. He believes in world peace. _This _ guy's just a fucking asshole. Real Gandhi would be ashamed of you!"

Geoff laughs a bit more, then straightens up. "I'll call them tomorrow."

"Yeah, awesome."


	8. Chapter 8

Friday morning, before they leave for the office, Jack approaches Ray while Michael is in the shower.

"Hey," Ray says, kind of wary. "What's up?"

"Your stitches are due to come out today," says Jack. 

"Yeah, thank fuck," says Ray. They've been itching, and it's driving him nuts.

"I've made an appointment for you at the hospital. It's at two. I'll take you," says Jack. He looks pretty uncomfortable. It can't possibly just be because he's afraid Ray will try to suck his dick in the car, can it? Ray hopes not.

"When you were admitted last week, do you remember if they ran any tests?" Jack asks.

"I don't really remember much of anything," says Ray. When you have a knife sticking out of your abdomen it makes it difficult to focus on anything else. "What kind of test? If it was spelling, I probably flunked."

Jack kind of smiles, but otherwise doesn't really react to the joke. "I mean like a blood test."

"I don't... if they did, they never told me what the outcome was. Why didn't you ask them when you made the appointment?"

"Geoff and I don't have any kind of rights to make decisions on your behalf or enquire about your medical history. So it's up to you, but I think it would be a good idea if you asked for a blood test today. Geoff and I will pay."

Finally Ray realises what's brought all this on. "You think I've got the clap."

"I don't think anything, but being homeless is hard and I doubt you've had a checkup since you were living on the streets. I'm going to try to convince Michael to see a doctor as well."

Right on cue, Michael exits the bathroom, hair still dripping. Jack turns his attention Michael's way, leaving Ray to mull over his words. Jack totally thinks he has the clap. Probably Geoff too, no wonder he turned Ray down. How humiliating.

It would have been a pretty normal day, except that Ray can't stop thinking about the upcoming appointment. He's pretty sure he's not sick, so there's nothing to worry about. He hopes the doctors don't ask him a bunch of nosy questions. It's none of their fucking business.

Just as he'd said he would, Jack comes to collect Ray and Michael at half past one. They're in Ryan's office, where he's editing a GTA video and showing them how the editing software works. It would be fun, except that Ryan is a little bit terrifying.

It's not that far to the hospital, but Ray gets why Jack allowed so much time for the drive when he sees how bad the traffic is. They get there just in time, and proceed to wait for another forty minutes. Jack spends the time flipping through a magazine, but Ray thinks all the magazines look stupid. He's bored out of his mind by the time the doctor comes out.

Removing his stitches turns out to be painless, which is nice. Ray expects the doctor to take a blood sample as well, but instead he prints something from his computer and tells Ray to take it to pathology, wherever that is.

Ray leaves the room and scans the page he's holding in the vain hope that it has directions on it. He doesn't find any, but Jack is waiting outside and says, "You got the referral? Great."

Michael joins them a few minutes later, holding his own slip of paper, and Jack says, "Awesome, let's go upstairs."

Is Michael having a blood test done too? Ray wants to ask why, but not where Michael can hear him. He gets his chance when they reach the lab. Apparently they have to take a number and wait. Michael is number 41 and Ray is 42. As soon as Michael gets called in, Ray turns on Jack and demands, "Why are you making Michael get a blood test?"

"Uh..." Jack looks kind of startled. "I'm not making him do anything. Like I told you, Geoff and I don't have the authority to make medical decisions on your behalf."

"But _why _?" Ray repeats, frustrated. "Did he tell you something? Do you know something I don't?" He'd been sure that Michael had never turned any tricks. He's done everything he can to ensure Michael didn't need to.

"Ray, no," says Jack. "It's just... a good idea to have blood tests run, for anyone. Geoff and I have a checkup every year, and maybe every second year the doctor orders a blood test. It's normal. For... for you, yeah, it's maybe more of a priority, but even if... things were different, I would have suggested it."

Before Ray can ask any other questions, Michael returns and Ray is called up. That was fast. Michael grins at him and punches him in the shoulder because he's a dick, and then Ray follows the nurse beckoning him over into the small room where apparently the blood collection takes place. 

"Does it look okay?" Ray asks once the nurse is done. It just looks like regular blood to him, but what does he know?

The nurse gives him a warm smile. "I'm sure it's fine, honey. You'll have the results in a few days."

A few days, perfect. He could do a lot of worrying in a few days, so it's a good thing there's nothing to worry about.

Yeah.

***

Talking to Ray about getting tested for STDs was maybe the most uncomfortable experience of Jack's life to date. He's been able to use it to guilt Geoff into handling most of the work setting things up for the kids' tutoring, but unfortunately he can't use it to make Michael leave him alone.

"School is stupid," Michael says. "I went to school for years, and you know how much of what I learned was useful?" 

Jack doesn't answer Michael's question. He's pretty sure it's rhetorical.

"Fucking none of it, that's what. It's just a load of bullshit. I learned more in twelve months on the streets than in ten years of school. I don't get why we have to go."

Jack knows he's making a mistake, but he can't stop himself. "You need to finish school if you want a decent job."

"No I don't. I can come work at Rooster Teeth."

"Geoff won't hire you if you haven't finished school."

Michael looks at him shrewdly. "So he'll give me a job if I do finish school?"

Christ. Jack needs to have a talk with Geoff really soon. "We'll see."

Just like that, Michael flips back to sulky. "That's bullshit loser adult talk for no. I'm not a fucking moron. I thought you were cool, Jack."

Jesus fucking christ. "We're not even sending you to school. It's tutoring and home study that you can do at your own pace, with plenty of support. You'll be fine." Jack casts about desperately for something to say. "Ray's not worried."

Ray gives him an unimpressed look, as though to say, 'you're on your own here, pal.

Christ. Michael seemed chill about the whole prospect at first, but as their first day of tutoring has drawn closer, Michael has been acting like more and more of a dick. Jack is trying to understand where he's coming from, but it's difficult when he's being so completely unreasonable. Their first session is tomorrow morning, and Jack is starting to worry what Michael might do between now and then.

"When this turns into a complete fucking disaster, don't say I didn't fucking tell you so," says Michael. 

"What exactly do you think is going to happen?" Jack demands, exasperated. Michael just looks away and shakes his head. "I can't help if I don't know what you're worried about." Michael shrugs. Asshole. Jack can feel his temper slipping, and gets up to leave. He stops in the doorway to say, "If you decide you do want to talk to me or Geoff about it, you know where to find us." Then he leaves before he can see Michael's response.

Geoff is in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. Guilt trip. Jack flops into a chair at the table and groans.

"Michael?" Geoff guesses. Not that it's much of a guess. They've both been dealing with his bullshit all week.

"Ugh." Jack takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. "Geoff, I'm cool, right?"

"Uh... Jesus, Jack, way to put me on the spot here."

"Asshole." Jack leans back in his chair. "I don't get it. Michael keeps complaining about the tutoring but when I try to ask him about it so I can understand what's bothering him and maybe help, he won't talk to me about it. Is this a normal thing? Is it just how teenagers are? Is that what I was like as a teenager? How did my parents not murder me? "

"I think it's at least somewhat just how teenagers are," says Geoff thoughtfully. "And I think Michael's got a thing about thinking he's dumb, or not wanting to look dumb, but when I tried to reassure him about it he flipped out on me."

"Exactly!" says Jack. "It's like he wants to be stressed and miserable, based on how hard he's resisting any kind of logical argument that this is not that big of a deal."

"Maybe it'll get better after tomorrow, once he goes to the first session and sees that it's fine."

"God, I hope so."

Geoff sends a sly glance Jack's way. "You're right to drive them there, yeah?"

"Oh, I guess so," says Jack. "Once you've talked with a teenager about the possibility that he has an STD, there's not much left that can bother you."

"Oh my god, fine, I'll do it. Jesus," says Geoff. "When are you going to stop milking that?"

"Never."

***

The kids tutoring session is supposed to start at half-past nine, so Geoff and Jack plan to take separate cars and have Geoff start work a little bit late. It's not until the morning arrives that Geoff starts to wish he'd asked Jack to stick around. It would be nice to have some backup for dealing with Michael. 

"I'm not wearing that shirt!" Michael snaps, referring to a shirt he's worn without complaint on at least three previous occasions. "Geoff, come on!"

"How about you come on! If you don't hurry up and get dressed, we're going to be late."

"Oh yeah, that would be a fucking tragedy," Michael snarls, grabbing what looks like every article of clothing from his closet and disdainfully tossing them aside one by one. "I bet those tutor assholes will be real fucking heartbroken if they miss out on seeing me today. At least, if they miss out on getting paid today. Wait, if I don't go, do you still have to pay? Did you pay already, is that what your problem is?"

"Why don't you tell me what your problem is?" says Geoff. Okay, maybe he's yelling a bit. Michael could exhaust anyone's patience. "It's like since you've already decided it's going to go badly, you're trying to make sure that it does. You could give it a chance and it would probably be fine, but no, instead you want to make sure everyone hates you."

"Of course they're going to hate me! Everyone hates me, I'm an asshole!" says Michael, raising his voice to be louder than Geoff's. "Why would I walk in there and try to pretend to be nice when I know it's pointless?"

Michael sounds really angry, but his voice is getting a little bit squeaky now. Oh boy, how does Geoff always end up in the line of fire when these kids start to lose their shit? He's so not equipped for this. Fucking Jack. 

"Michael, don't be ridiculous. Everyone does not hate you. Look how many of the guys at Rooster Teeth like you. You're a good kid."

Geoff winces as soon as the words leave his mouth, sure that Michael will take them as an insult to his level of coolness. Michael just scoffs.

"I'm not a good kid, Geoff."

"Of course y-"

"No, shut up! You don't know anything! How many good kids get expelled, huh? You act like you know everything so I have to listen to you, but you don't know _anything_."

Geoff hides his internal panic and waits until Michael stops shouting. "Why did you get expelled?"

"I threw a compass at a teacher," Michael mumbles, sulky now. He peers at Geoff's face like he's looking for confirmation that Geoff does think he's as bad as he said. Geoff won't give it to him.

"Why?"

"He was being a cunt."

Geoff waits, but Michael doesn't seem interested in sharing anything else about it. "Are you going to throw a compass at someone today?"

"I don't know. People piss me off. I get angry all the time and then I can't control myself. I scare people."

If anything, Michael is the one who sounds scared right now. Geoff doesn't know what to do - reassure Michael that he's not bad? That Geoff doesn't care what he did? It doesn't really make sense to him. Sure, Michael is pissed off basically all the time, but he's done the things Geoff has asked of him. He's tried to communicate instead of lashing out, and it's obviously not easy for him but all it took to get him to make the effort was for Geoff to make it clear that he would listen. So what happened before that was bad enough to get Michael to react violently enough to get expelled?

"What if I come with you two today? Instead of dropping you off and picking you up?" Geoff asks. Jesus, that's going to take a lot of rearranging, and he's not at all sure whether Michael will go for the idea or be insulted by it. But Michael thinks for a minute and then gives a hesitant nod.

"If I get out of line, you'll stop me?" he asks. Geoff thinks he might have a very different idea of what that means than he intended.

"Well, if you think something's going to be a problem, or if you get mad, you can tell me and I'll, um, fix it, or take you to get some air or something. And if I notice you're getting angry I'll tell you, and you can decide if you think you can calm down or if you want to step out. And we'll see how that goes today, and then we'll decide what to do next time. Okay?"

This time Michael is quicker to nod. Geoff feels a great surge of warmth. It's a lot of trust for Michael to show towards someone he really hasn't known for very long. For the first time, Geoff feels less like he's fumbling his way through this blindly, more confident that he's made the right call.

He puts in a quick call to Jack, who sounds surprised at the change of plans but agrees to let everyone know. Then it's time to leave, and he gets the kids in the car and then breaks the news to Ray as casually as he can.

"Hey, so I was thinking I might hang around today to see how things go."

Ray, however, does not take the news casually at all. "What? No, Geoff, you don't have to do that. We'll be fine, right Michael?"

"Uhhh..." says Michael. "I mean, I guess. I dunno."

"_Michael_," Ray hisses, as though Geoff isn't sitting right there. "Seriously Geoff, I bet you've got, like, a billion things to do today. You don't want to be stuck with us all day."

"It's not a problem," says Geoff. "I'd like to meet the tutors and get an idea of what sorts of things you'll be doing. That way, if you need help with homework, I'll... well, I probably still won't be much help," he jokes. Neither of the kids laugh. "But I can give it my best shot."

"You don't have to worry about our homework or whatever, we can handle it," Ray insists. "Michael, come on, tell Geoff we're fine."

"Ray, would you just chill out?" Michael snaps. He shifts to the side suddenly; Geoff thinks Ray might have kicked the back of his seat. He glares at Ray in the rearview mirror, but Ray pointedly avoids his gaze. Geoff has no idea what his problem is. Is he worried about Geoff embarrassing him in front of the other kids? He can't imagine it will be that big of an issue. It's a small group, and all the kids have struggled with school for one reason or another, but teenagers aren't necessarily rational. 

They arrive. The tutoring sessions are held in a church, although the group itself isn't religiously affiliated. Geoff hops out of the car behind Ray and Michael, and after looking around at a bit of a loss he spots a teenager walking up a path at the side of the building.

They follow the kid, who enters the building through a side door. Geoff suddenly feels awkward, and knocks on the door too softly at first, then too loudly. He steps back and shoves his hands into his pockets just as a young blonde woman opens the door.

"Uh, hi?" says Geoff, his voice definitely not squeaking. "I'm Geoff, I have an appointment? I mean, not me, my kids do. I mean, not my kids exactly, but..."

Thank god, the woman decides to speak up and out Geoff out of his misery. "Oh, hi, Geoff! We spoke on the phone, I'm Caiti. And this must be Ray and Michael." She smiles over his shoulder at the kids. Michael offers whar Geoff thinks is supposed to be a smile, while Ray's expression doesn't change at all.

"Come in! You're a few minutes early, which is perfect. Today will be pretty relaxed, we're going to figure out what you two want to achieve and get an idea of where you're at now."

Geoff and the kids follow Caiti inside. It's a small room with a large table taking up most of the space. Pens and notebooks are scattered everywhere, and there are a few kids already seated around the table. They look up when Geoff enters, but don't seem to take that much notice.

"I was thinking about sitting in today, until they've settled in. Is that alright?" Geoff asks.

Caiti beams. "Of course! What a wonderful idea. You're welcome any time. How about you two take a seat?" she says, gesturing to the table.

Michael and Ray pull up chairs at the table, and at Caiti's encouraging smile, Geoff does the same. Caiti sits on their other side, and grabs a pen and notepad.

"First of all today, I'd like to get an idea of what your goals are," she says. She's clearly speaking to Michael and Ray, so Geoff keeps quiet, but the kids seem to have no idea how to respond. At least Caiti doesn't seem put off.

"Do you want to complete high school?" she asks.

"Sure, I guess," says Michael. 

"Do you want to go to college?"

Neither of them answers. It's obvious from their faces that the idea of going to college has never even occurred to them. It makes Geoff feel kind of sad.

Caiti is a trooper, thank god. "Let's come back to that later, maybe. What kind of jobs are you interested in, once you've finished school?"

"Rooster Teeth," Michael answers immediately. Oh boy. Jack had mentioned something about that.

"Um..." says Caiti, clearly puzzled. Geoff takes pity on her.

"It's a, it’s my production company,” said Geoff, for the sake of simplicity. “Uh, we mainly make content for YouTube." Man, Geoff loves how dumb it sounds when he tries to explain Rooster Teeth to someone who's not already at least a little bit familiar with it.

Caiti lights up, though. "Oh wow, that's so cool! So, are you interested in acting?" she asks Michael. "Or something behind the scenes, like editing or sound production?"

"Uh." It's clear from Michael's expression that he hasn't put any thought into this, aside from probably wanting to get paid to play video games all day long. 

Caiti is much more merciful than Geoff, who would have made Michael sweat for a lot longer. "What about you?" she asks Ray. "Do you want to do the same kind of work, or something else?"

"I don't know," says Ray. "I really haven't thought about it much. I just..." He looks around at the room, frowns at Geoff for a second before looking back to Caiti. "I want to be able to take care of myself. I don't care what job I have, so long as I can do that."

Caiti nods and smiles reassuringly. "Okay, that's fine. But I want both of you to keep in mind that this is all about helping you to achieve the things you want to achieve, and if your goals change or you think of anything, you should let me and Tina know." Caiti gestures to the other woman in the room, sitting at the opposite end of the table with the rest of the kids.

"Now," Caiti goes on, "I have some things I need to go over with you two, so that I can get an idea of where you're starting from. It's not a test, and it doesn't matter if you don't know something. This is just to help us know where to start, okay?"

Caiti does some work with Michael and Ray, getting them to read a passage aloud and solve some math equations and mostly do a lot of talking. She even gets Ray to speak up a bit, which Geoff is surprised by. He doesn't remember being encouraged to talk this much in school. It was a whole lot of 'sit down, shut up and do what you're told'. But then, isn't the whole reason he and Jack went looking for an alternative that they could tell that wouldn't work for these guys?

Geoff sort of tunes them out and gets absorbed in watching Tina work with the other kids. She gets two of them started on an activity and leaves them to work on it while she helps the other three with... something different. Something science related, by the look of the textbooks. After a while she returns to the first two kids and they talk about the work. Some of the kids have brought in snacks, which they eat throughout the morning. A few times, one of the kids gets up to pour a cup of coffee from the pot in the tiny kitchenette. One of them brings back a second cup and gives it to a girl sitting in a wheelchair. It's all very relaxed and calm. The one time one of the kids seems to become agitated, he gets up and leaves the room, returning ten minutes later looking more composed. Tina smiles at the kid and talks with him aside from the others. Geoff has no idea what they're talking about, but they're talking, not arguing, and afterwards the kid returns to the table.

About halfway through the morning, they stop for a fifteen minute break. Some of the kids leave to get some fresh air, while the others sit back and talk. Michael gets a coffee and joins the other kids, while Ray follows him a bit more reluctantly.

Geoff takes the opportunity to talk with Caiti without the kids listening in. "I'm sorry to intrude," he says. "Michael was really nervous about coming today."

"It's fine!" says Caiti. "It's always great when a parent sits in, the kids really benefit from it."

"Oh, uh... thanks," says Geoff, reeling from the shock of being referred to as a parent. He decides not to get into a discussion about whether it's an accurate label or not. It's more important to make sure Michael will be okay here. "Um, Michael has told me some things that I think I should probably share. Uh... he mentioned this morning that he was expelled from his last school because he threw something at a teacher."

Geoff winces as he talks, because it sounds bad, even though he switched the word 'attacked' for the much more neutral 'threw something at' at the last second. What did he throw, Geoff, a pillow? A balloon? A puppy? Oh, no, just a very small sharp object.

"He's not a bad kid, really," Geoff insists. "I mean, he's got a temper and I guess he can be argumentative, but he really tries and honestly he's fine if you just listen to him if he's upset, but I guess you need to know, and if you think he shouldn't be in this program, well... I just hope you'll give him a chance."

"Geoff, it's fine," says Caiti, and she's still smiling but her expression is serious. "Look, most kids in this program are here for one of two reasons - they've either missed too much school to catch up with their peers, or they have behavioural issues which mean they struggle to get along in a typical classroom. So Michael won't be the first kid we've had who got expelled for fighting or something like that. I'm not worried."

Geoff manages to breathe. Caiti adds, "Thanks for telling me this, though. It helps to have that background information. Don't worry, I'm sure Michael will be just fine."

The kids gather back together to resume work. Now, Caiti sits with the other kids and Tina comes to work with Ray and Michael. They carry on with the same kind of work Caiti was doing earlier, and Geoff watches to see how they're managing. It seems like it's going fine. Michael doesn't look stressed at all, and Ray seems a bit withdrawn but is steadily working nonetheless. After a while Tina pulls out a laptop and gets the kids to watch a video on YouTube. The sound is too low for Geoff to listen in, but it looks interesting. Something about hermit crabs swapping shells. Geoff never realised how creepy they look.

After the video Tina starts asking the kids questions, and the discussion goes for a while. Geoff marvels at how she manages to engage them; he definitely couldn't do it. The last thirty minutes of the session is spent setting goals.

"Not goals for, like, what you want to do in life or anything," Tina clarifies. "Just a goal that you want to work towards over the next couple of weeks. So your homework, if you want to think of it that way, is to decide on two things. The first is some kind of skill you want to try to improve for the next two weeks. That could be anything - even if you decide you want to work on having, I don't know, neater handwriting. Or maybe you want to learn a programming language or something about chemistry or photography, it doesn't matter. And the second thing is an idea for a project you want to work on for the next few weeks. That can be anything as well. When you come in on Wednesday, we'll have a look at your ideas and make a plan for how to accomplish them. Okay?"

Ray and Michael nod. They don't look quite as enthusiastic about the whole thing as Tina does, but they seem interested. Geoff thinks it sounds awesome. He almost wants to ask if he can enroll in the program too.

After that, it's time to go. Geoff gets the kids into the car and begins the drive to the office. "What do you think about this project?" he asks. "You two have any ideas?"

"I don't know," says Michael. "Something cool."

"Maybe you could make a video," Geoff suggests. Every day at work Michael tries to steal someone's equipment to record things, and every night when they get home he plays around on the computer putting videos together. Geoff will admit, he's not doing too badly for a kid.

"I don't think she'll go for it," says Michael. "Tina's expecting something that involves, you know, work."

Geoff raises his eyebrows. "Good to know my job that I do all day isn't actually work," he remarks. He's pretty sure that's not what Michael meant; with the amount of time he's spent dicking around making videos, he has to have realised that they do require a lot of work.

"But she's going to say that playing a video game and recording it is just, like, stuffing around!" says Michael. 

"Well, I'm not so sure, but it's up to you."

In the backseat, Ray mutters something Geoff can't hear. "What about you, Ray, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Ray mutters, barely audible.

"Ray's going to do a self-portrait of himself jerking off," Michael jokes. Ray doesn't answer, even to tell Michael to fuck off, and Michael looks kind of hurt. Geoff realises that Ray's barely spoken to him all day, and it can't just be that he's nervous about the tutoring, now that it's over. Whatever Ray's issue is, it's getting old.

"Well, I thought it sounded like an exciting idea, I don't know what's up with you two," says Geoff. 

He pulls into the Rooster Teeth parking lot and the kids dash inside, presumably to bug Gavin and Jeremy and prevent them from doing their actual jobs. Geoff follows more sedately, and Jack accosts him the second he's through the door.

"How did it go?" Jack asks. "Was it okay? What happened this morning, is something wrong?"

"It's fine, it was fine. It went really well, " says Geoff. "Caiti and Tina did a great job. I think they'll be good for the kids. I went with them today because Michael was nervous."

"Nervous?" says Jack doubtfully. "He's been a pill."

"Yeah, but... he talked to me about what was bothering him, and I needed to show him that I've got his back." Geoff looks around and leads Jack into his office. "So Michael... it turns out he's really worried about how angry he gets. He told me he was expelled from his school for attacking one of his teachers, and he was worried he might blow up today, so I went along so I could step in if anything happened. He was fine, though!" Geoff adds quickly. "And I think the fact he told me all this is a real sign of progress. I just want to make sure he knows we won't turn on him just because he's been in some trouble in the past."

"Geoff, I... wow," says Jack. Geoff supposes he did kind of dump all that on him. He gives Jack a moment. "Okay, yeah. That is really great. Do you think we need to do anything about this? Michael's been getting along okay most of the time, but..."

"It would probably do him good to talk to someone," Geoff agrees. "I thought if we suggested that he'd dig in his heels, but now I think if we sell it to him in the right way, he might be interested."

"That would be good. And if we convinced Michael to see a therapist, do you think Ray would agree to go too?"

"I don't know," Geoff sighs. "I don't get that kid. Once Michael stopped being a jerk, I guess it was Ray’s turn. He didn't want me sitting in. I get it, I'm an uncool adult, but I wasn't trying to cramp his style. Michael's the one who wanted me there."

"Huh, that's weird," says Jack. 

"Yeah. Moody teenagers, right? What have we got ourselves into?"

Jack gives a small smile. "Maybe I'll have a talk to him."


	9. Chapter 9

Ray's not entirely surprised when Jack appears in the doorway to Gavin's office and says, "Hey, you got a minute, Ray?"

"What's up?" Michael asks, rather than letting Ray speak for his damn self.

"It's nothing," says Jack. He's lying. Ray is absolutely certain of it. "I need some help with our kitchen delivery, and you look pretty busy."

Michael is busy. He and Gavin are editing some kind of podcast, and Michael is asking a bunch of questions which suggest that, despite what he said to Geoff, he's taking the suggestion of doing some kind of video project seriously.

"I'm not busy, I can come help too."

"It's fine, Michael, just stay here and play with Gavin," Ray snaps. He feels bad, but Jack is so obviously here for some other reason than wanting help loading cartons of milk into the fridge. Jack raises his eyebrows at Ray.

"Well... okay, fine. If you say so," says Michael. He sounds hurt, and Ray feels about two inches tall,which is bullshit. Michael is the one who's been fucking up all day, so why is Ray the one who feels shitty?

He follows Jack to the front of the building, where a delivery van is parked. Jack hands him one box and hoists the other one himself; it's smaller but heavier, by the way Jack is lifting it.

Jack is quiet as they carry the boxes to the kitchen and open them up. Maybe he thinks he's letting Ray get comfortable, lulling him into a false sense of security. Joke's on him; Ray is not that easy to fool.

"So how did you like it this morning?" Jack asks casually.

"It was fine, " says Ray, just as casually.

"What did you think of the tutors?"

"They're fine."

"Geoff says you're supposed to plan some kind of project."

"Yeah."

Full credit to Jack; he's more patient than most people. "Is anything bothering you?"

"Nope."

"Geoff thinks something might be bothering you."

"Geoff sure thinks a lot of things."

"Did you not want him to tag along today?"

"Hey, that was Geoff's choice, I didn't ask him to do it. I know he's a busy guy and he's got shit to do, if he wants to spend his morning hanging around a bunch of dropouts so he can hold Michael's hand or whatever, that's his choice. Nothing to do with me."

"Wow, okay." Jack puts away the last jar of coffee grounds and sits down at the table. Oh, hell no. Ray's not falling for that. 

"Can I go now?"

"Sit down, Ray."

Fucking fine, whatever. It's not Ray's problem if people insist on asking for exactly what they don't want, and if they try to make it his problem, he'll...

Something. He'll figure it out.

Ray flops into a chair at the table, deliberately facing a little away from Jack. "What."

Jack is quiet for a few seconds, obviously choosing his words carefully. Ray waits. If Jack thinks he's going to make this easier for him, he's going to be disappointed.

"You're right," says Jack at last. "It was Geoff's choice to go with you two today. What I'm confused about is why it bothers you so much."

Ray groans. "Does it matter?"

"Of course. We don't want to do anything that's going to upset you, but... well, we've got to think of both of you, and Michael needed some support today. It doesn't mean..."

"Oh, come on, Jack, get real. Look, you and Geoff have done a lot for us, okay? I get that. But you're both busy guys who didn't really sign up for this, and you're going to get tired of us fucking up your lives eventually."

Jack looks stunned. "You're not... fucking up our lives, " he said eventually.

"Well you've spent fuck knows how much on me and Michael, given up a room in your house, Michael's making a goddamn racket in the living room all the fucking time, and you keep having to take time off work because of us. If that's not fucking up your lives, what the fuck is?"

"Jesus," said Jack. "Ray, none of that was a problem for Geoff and me. We did those things because we could, and we wanted to. Because we care about you and Michael."

"Yeah, you say that now," Ray mutters, and then adds quickly so Jack doesn't think Ray's having a go at him, "I mean, maybe it doesn't seem like that big of a deal right now when it's only been a few weeks, but what about after a couple of months, or a... a year?" Jesus, it's terrifying to even talk about the possibility of staying with them for a year, but if Jack just refuses to understand, what choice does he have? "Eventually you'll get tired of how much stuff we need all the time. Fuck, Geoff's already pissed at me, and I'm not even the one who wanted him to come today."

"Geoff's annoyed because he doesn't understand why you were in such a bad mood," says Jack. 

"Well, I don't get why it's such a big fucking mystery! The less we disrupt your lives, the less we'll owe you. It's not like we can pay you back; you know we don't have any money and you already turned down the one thing I can offer." Jack visibly flinches; the sight only eggs Ray on. "So we have to make sure we're not asking too much of you which is fine because you've done enough already, except Michael doesn't get it and he should, he should know better, so of course I'm mad at him."

He's probably said too much, but it's what Jack wanted. Ray gave him every chance to piss off. 

"Jesus," Jack mutters, looking down at the table with his face resting in one hand. He's quiet for a while. Ray wonders if Jack will let him leave now.

"Here's the thing," says Jack before Ray can stand up. Fuck, missed his chance. "You're wrong - no, don't argue, I understand why you think that, I guess, but you're wrong. Geoff and I won't get tired of you two as soon as you become inconvenient." Ray rolls his eyes. Just because Jack told him not to argue doesn't mean he has to actually agree. "But, okay... I'm sure this whole situation is difficult for you."

"Ugh," Ray groans quietly. It's not difficult, it's a huge break which is why he's trying so hard not to fuck it up.

"I know you're used to looking after yourself and making do with what you can do for yourself. And no one likes to feel dependent," Jack goes on. "So what if you did something like... I don't know, looked for a job?"

"A job?" Ray said doubtfully.

"Yeah, something totally separate from me and Geoff and Rooster Teeth, so that you know, no matter what happens with us - and nothing will, but no matter what happens - you've got something else totally independent of that to fall back on. And you can save some money or buy things for yourself without having to rely on me and Geoff so much."

Now he's had a minute to think about it, it doesn't sound like such a bad idea. "Maybe," Ray allows. "But I don't have any, like, ID or anything. I'd need some kind of ID, right? Or a social security number? I don't even know if I _have _ a social security number. How do you get a social security number? Do they just give you one when you get born or something?" Ray doesn't have much of an idea what's involved with getting a job, but he's certain there's some kind of proof of identity requirement he won't be able to satisfy.

"We'll have to look into that," says Jack, his expression serious. "I suppose if we're going to go down the avenue of you applying for emancipation, we'd have to get some kind of legal advice eventually. No time like the present."

Ray frowns. He hasn't missed that this is going to involve him getting even more in debt to Geoff and Jack, not less, but Jack's right, if he wants to get anywhere this is where they need to start. Anyway, he and Jack have already had this argument once today, and Ray thinks he might have lost? Whatever. Jack wanted to know what was bothering him, and now he does. Ray can try to put aside his anxiety and try to enjoy the good times while they last. It's fine.

***

By the time Wednesday rolls around, Michael has considered and rejected a good dozen possible project ideas.

"I could read a book and do a book report," he'd said to Ray. 

"That sounds boring."

"I could make one of those baking soda volcanoes," he tried next.

"That sounds dumb."

"Well, what are you planning to do?" Michael had demanded at last. 

Ray had just offered a small, smug grin. "You'll see."

Asshole. So in the end, Michael had returned to the video idea, and now he's setting himself up at the table in the church's back room, waiting nervously for Caiti to ask him about it. 

Two other kids join them at their end of the table; a girl named Alana who uses a motorised wheelchair, and an older kid named Bailey, who keeps his laptop in front of him at all times and rarely looks at anyone else.

"Alana and Bailey are also starting new projects today," says Caiti. "What we usually do is workshop them together first, then split off to keep working individually."

Caiti pauses for a second, as though to see if anyone has questions. No one does, so she says, "Alana, why don't you tell us your idea first, so Ray and Michael know what to expect."

"Sure!" says Alana with a smile. "Last time I made a presentation about traffic planning," she says, obviously for Ray and Michael's benefit. "So now I want to code a program that can simulate different traffic situations. Like, theoretically it should be something that can be used for traffic planners to schedule traffic lights, and designing intersections, that kind of thing.”

Okay, that actually does sound kind of cool.

"I love that idea, Alana!" says Caiti. Michael would roll his eyes if she didn't sound so damn genuine about it. "It's pretty ambitious, though. What should the final result be? How will you know if it's been successful?"

"Hm." After a moment's thought, Alana says, "I want to be able to have different settings for the intensity of the traffic, and to be able to set the traffic light timing to be whatever I want."

"That would be fantastic. And I can see where it could have a big literacy component as well."

"Yeah... I could make an instruction manual for it, or a publicity brochure maybe."

"Sure! And do you think there are any other learning focus areas in this?"

"Maybe, um... numeracy? I'll need to analyse a lot of statistics to get it to work."

"Wonderful!" Caiti gives her an approving smile, then turns to the other kid. "What about you, Bailey?"

Without looking up, Bailey says, "I'm going to write a short story."

"Great! And how will you know if you've succeeded?"

"I want it to be 2000 words long."

"And?"

"And... have a beginning, middle and end?"

"Perfect." Caiti doesn't push for anything more; Bailey is clearly not very comfortable speaking to the group. "Okay, your turn, Michael."

"Uh... I want to make a video. I was thinking maybe... ranking the 10 best horror games of all time?" Michael waits for Caiti to say that his idea is too dumb, not serious enough. It's not as obviously practical as Alana's or as clearly academic as Bailey's. 

"That sounds like a lot of fun!" says Caiti enthusiastically. Michael blinks. "And how will you know you were successful?"

From watching the other kids, Michael knew to expect this question, but that doesn't mean he knows how to answer it.

"Um... it lists ten horror games?"

Caiti doesn't make fun of him like Michael kind of expects. She just smiles and says, "One of the easiest ways to evaluate a project like this is probably its length. How long do you want it to be?"

Oh, right. "Um... twenty minutes?"

"Okay! And as you might have seen Alana doing just now, one of the things we work on together when we workshop these projects is the other learning areas you can develop, aside from the skills you've chosen yourselves."

Right. Michael had noticed that, but it doesn't mean he has a clue what to say. 

"Alana, can you see any opportunities in Michael's idea?"

"Social, I think? If the video has Michael presenting, then there's speaking and communication skills."

"Yes, exactly!" Caiti says. "Bailey, do you think there's a way to incorporate literacy into this project?"

"Um... he could write a script. Or a transcript."

Fuck, that sounds like a lot of writing. "Maybe the video should only be ten minutes."

Caiti nods at him. "That's probably plenty to start with. Now Ray, what have you come up with?"

Michael straightens up. Ray has refused to share his project idea, but he's been slouching in his chair since they arrived like he's got something up his sleeve.

"Parkour," says Ray. Everyone stares at him.

"Parkour?" says Caiti. 

"Yeah."

"Okay... and how will you judge your success?"

"By... doing a backflip."

"A backflip. Okay, great." Caiti appears to take a moment to regroup. Michael watches in fascination. "Okay. Can anyone see other learning opportunities within this topic?"

"Social?" Alana suggests. "Ray could do a talk or a demonstration."

"Yeah," Michael chimes in. "Ray could perform his backflip for the group."

Ray glares at him; Michael couldn't care less. 

"That's a great idea. And there's sure to be some critical thinking opportunities here too. Ray will need to use multiple sources of information to train himself." Caiti looks back over to Alana and Bailey. "Okay, you two know the drill, so can I get you working independently for the next fifteen minutes or so while I help Ray and Michael?"

Caiti scoots her chair closer to Michael's, while Alana and Bailey pull out notebooks and pens and get to work. Ray seems mildly put out that his suggestion didn't get whatever reaction he was after.

"Ray, I love your idea," Caiti bubbles. "Have you been interested in parkour for a long time?"

"Not really."

"Well. I do have some stipulations about this project," says Caiti, opening her laptop. "And the first one is that part of your evaluation has to be research how to perform parkour safely, and whatever you do, you need to be safe." She pauses briefly. "For one thing, a backflip might be a little ambitious. You might want to consider making your goal something like... a handstand, or a cartwheel, or a series of smaller exercises."

"I'll think about that," Ray says immediately. Michael thinks he was probably expecting Caiti to turn down his parkour suggestion, and is now panicking at the idea of having to follow through with something which involves so much physical activity.

"And my second, related point is that this project has some obvious physical development components-"

"Hey now, I'm not that kind of boy," interrupts Ray. Caiti ignores him like a champion. 

"-and building the physical skills you're going to need will probably require some kind of daily exercise regime."

Ray looks like he's in hell. Michael presses his lips together to keep from laughing.

"You should make sure there's someone around when you're practicing, like a spotter. You might need someone to help you with certain exercises as well."

"Hey, that's perfect, since we live together!" says Michael. "I can help Ray train, that way he'll never need to miss a day."

Ray glares at Michael and mouths something. Michael can't read lips, but knowing Ray, it's probably 'you're a dick'. Michael just looks at Ray innocently.

"I was hoping you'd say that, Michael. You're a good friend," says Caiti. "Okay, let's talk a bit about your project now..."

After that, the day goes quickly. Caiti makes them both design what she calls a rubric for their project.

"You'll use this to grade your project once you're done," says Caiti.

"Isn't grading us your job?" Michael asks. "I could just grade myself now. Look, I got an A+!"

Caiti gives him the smile of someone who's heard that joke many times before and says, "Don't worry, I'll give you feedback as well."

Michael notices that Caiti does watch him and Ray closely, making a lot of suggestions for criteria and helping them write it. She's more hands-off with Alana and Bailey, who have obviously done this before, but still checks their progress throughout the day. Eventually Caiti says, "Your projects will be due two weeks from today, so to be on track to finish on time, what do you need to have done by Friday?"

So they have to assign themselves homework as well. Michael wonders exactly what Caiti's job even is. He could do all this himself. Maybe he wouldn't, but he _could _.

After that, Jack picks them up and drives them to the office. Ray heads straight inside, grumbling, to start doing research on parkour. Michael is all set to follow him - he'd told Caiti that his homework would be to play every horror game ever made and figure out his top five (Caiti had talked him down from top ten), to which she'd given him a knowing smile and wished him luck - but Jack stops him before he reaches the door.

"Hey, Michael, you got a minute?"

"Yeah?" Michael answers, wary. "Why?"

Jack sits down on the bench by the front door. He leaves space for Michael to sit next to him, but Michael is a bit too suspicious to take it, and remains standing.

"Geoff and I have been looking into what needs to happen for you two to apply to be emancipated teens," Jack says. "And we want to get some legal advice, so... we've got an appointment tomorrow with our lawyer." Their lawyer. Because that's how things work in these guys' lives apparently, they just... have a lawyer. "I wanted to make sure you were forewarned."

"'Kay." Why isn't Ray here for this? Does he not need to be forewarned? Why did Jack single Michael out?

"She might have questions for you, about your family and your life before and after you left," says Jack. "You don't have to answer, but it will help if you do. Okay?"

"Fine, whatever." Michael can't worry about that right now, he's got something else on his mind. "You said... to get emancipated you have to be sixteen, right?"

"Yeah, why?" Jack asks.

"Um." If he doesn't tell them, they'll find out, and they'll be even more pissed that he wasted their time. "I'm fifteen."

"What?" says Jack, frowning. Michael keeps a wary eye out in case Jack tries to grab him or something. "You said... oh." Jack kind of slumps, and Michael actually feels guilty. He doesn't even look angry, just kind of tired like Michael's dumped a whole new burden on him. "When's your birthday?"

"In July."

That's the best part of a year away. It's not good, Michael can see it on Jack's face.

"Okay. Well, maybe Jackie will have some suggestions tomorrow anyway. Let's not give up."

That's it? "Are you mad?" Michael finds himself asking. He didn't even realise he was about to say anything. He just... Jack has to be pissed, right? But he's not showing it. Michael doesn't trust that.

But... "I'm not mad," says Jack. "I get why you didn't tell us before. Thanks for telling us now." He pauses. "Did your parents really throw you out?"

"My dad..." Michael never intended to say all this, but here he is... "After I got kicked out of school, he said he couldn't let me stay. He was afraid I'd hurt my mom or my sister."

"But you were only fourteen."

Michael shrugs. He's never thought of his age as some kind of defense. He fucked up, and his dad did what he needed to do to make sure his fucking up didn't affect the rest of the family. If Michael didn't like it, he could have just not been such a fuckup.

"That's really shitty," says Jack. He looks sad. Michael doesn't know what to say.

***

Jackie has been Geoff's lawyer since the early days of Rooster Teeth. She's helped him with most of the contracts and deals he's been involved with, and has never steered him wrong, so he's a little dismayed when they arrive at the office and she says, "Hi Geoff, it's great to see you again. I've organised for you to speak with Claire, she's one of our junior partners and she's very experienced with family law."

"I thought we'd be meeting with you," says Geoff. Jackie smiles at him.

"All my training and experience is in corporate law. As good as I may be at it, this is a totally different field, and you're better off talking to someone with experience." Jackie leaned in towards Geoff. "Geoff, I wouldn't set this up if I didn't genuinely think you'd be better off."

"Well... okay then," says Geoff. "Thanks."

Claire ushers them into an office and Geoff takes a seat in front of the desk. Michael and Ray sit next to him with Jack on the far side. Claire sits behind the desk and unlocks her computer. 

"To start with, do you think you can brief me on the situation?"

So they fill her in on the story. Geoff tells most of it, with Jack filling in details here and there. Michael and Ray are silent unless Geoff asks them a question, even though he tries to give them plenty of chances to speak up if they want to. They seem pretty ill at ease, which Geoff supposes is fair enough. 

"So, you're thinking of applying for emancipation?" Claire asks once they're finished.

Geoff waits, but Ray and Michael just sit there like rocks. Alright then.

"For Ray," he says. "But Michael is still fifteen, so... I suppose we're also wondering what alternatives there are."

"Okay," says Claire, typing rapidly. "We'll get to that. Ray, what steps are you taking to show that you're capable of living independently?"

"Um..." says Ray, looking startled.

"He wants to look for a job, but he doesn't have a copy of his birth certificate or any other identification," says Geoff. God, this is painful. 

"Okay, that we can fix easily enough," says Claire, grabbing a folder and pulling a sheet of paper out of it. "This is a form to request a copy of your birth certificate. Fill it out and send it to the address on the back. Now," she continues, folding her hands together and looking directly at Ray. Ray squirms. "In order to be emancipated, you'll need to demonstrate both that you're capable of taking care of yourself, and that your family isn't, or won't."

"Fine," says Ray. 

"You'll need to prove this to the satisfaction of the court. Otherwise, if your family argues that they are providing for you, or willing to, the court might not grant your petition."

"Ray's parents kicked him out," says Geoff, because he wants to help, and he wants to spare Ray from having to explain it again. But Ray says, "You mean if my mom says she wants me to come home, the court could make me go?"

"That's... one possible outcome," says Claire. 

"Well, that's bullshit! I'd rather just keep things how they are. She can't make me go home if she doesn't know where I am."

"But... Ray," says Geoff, feeling confused. "If she kicked you out of home when you were only thirteen, she's already shown she's not willing to care for you. There's no way the court would send you back to her after that." He looks at Claire for confirmation. She's nodding, but only slightly, like she doesn't approve of Geoff painting it as such a simple issue.

"Ray?" Geoff prods when he doesn't respond.

"She didn't kick me out, I ran away," says Ray at last. "And I'm not going back."

Goddammit. Are these kids ever going to stop lying to him? "But you said..." Geoff starts, then trails off when he realises it's pointless.

"Why did you run away?" Claire asks gently. Ray shrugs, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"The court will not force you to return to a situation where you were abused, or your needs weren't met, but I need to know if that's the case so I can help put an argument together."

Ray's jaw is clenched so hard Geoff imagines he can see the outline of his teeth through the skin. "Ray, would it help if the rest of us stepped out and gave you some privacy?" Geoff suggests. Ray's nostrils flare and he shrugs again. In the absence of any other response, Geoff looks helplessly at Claire, who gives a slight nod.

"We'll be right outside," Geoff says, standing up. He taps Michael's shoulder and the kid looks up at him, confused. Geoff beckons and Michael gets up to follow him out of the room. On Ray's other side, Jack is getting up as well, but Geoff sees Ray's hand dart out and grab Jack's sleeve before he can step away. Jack is just settling back into his chair as Geoff and Michael step out the door.

***

Jack was not expecting Ray to ask him to stay in the room. Not that he asked, exactly. Hell, he still hasn't let go of Jack's wrist. But the fact that he did suggests that maybe he's gearing himself up to talk.

"You can take as much time as you need, Ray," says Claire. "What do I need to know?"

Ray still looks tense, and his breathing seems kind of shallow. He's quiet for a few minutes, but Claire doesn't push, just waits patiently. Jack thinks that Jackie was right to have them meet with her; as skilled and efficient as Jackie is, he can't imagine her convincing Ray to open up about this.

"I ran away," Ray repeats. Claire nods. Ray swallows and adds, "My mom was getting back together with her boyfriend."

A minute passes. It looks like Ray isn't going to say anything else. "Was there a problem with her boyfriend?" Claire asks softly.

Ray shrugs again. Jack realises his hands are shaking; he wants to put a hand on Ray's shoulder or something, but maybe it wouldn't be a good idea.

"He and my mom got together when I was nine, but then they broke up for awhile when I was twelve. They were broken up for nearly a year. I didn't think they'd get back together, but then they did."

"Is that when you ran away?"

"Yeah," says Ray shakily. "Mom and I were fighting about it, because I didn't want her to take him back. She got real mad at me, she said..." Ray trails off. Whatever his mother said to him, he doesn't share.

"Did your mother's boyfriend hurt you?" Claire asks. Ray shudders.

"Yeah," he says, and then, "No. I dunno." Claire waits patiently. "He fucking. You know. Did stuff to me or whatever. He pretended like... it was okay. And normal. And like I was fine with it. But I wasn't." He looks at Jack for the first time since they sat down, and his eyes seem huge. "I wasn't," he repeats.

Ray's face kind of crumples up. He freezes for a minute in a horrible grimace before his expression smooths back to normal. 

"Did your mother know?" Claire asks after a moment.

"No," says Ray, shaking his head. "I never told her. I didn't think she'd believe me."

God. Jack remembers having some huge arguments with his parents when he was a kid, but he can't imagine feeling like he couldn't talk to them about something like this. 

"Ray, how old were you when this started?"

"I dunno," says Ray, hunching his shoulders. "I was nine when they got together the first time. He was really nice to me, bought me stuff, wanted to hang out all the time. But then he started to get kind of weird... by the time I was ten, he..."

Ray clams up like he doesn't want to say it, and Jack doesn't have the heart to force the words out of him. Thankfully, Claire doesn't seem to either.

"Okay," she says, typing furiously. "Thank you, Ray. I know that was difficult. Do you need a minute?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna... go get some air," says Ray, standing up. He leaves the room without looking back. Jack would follow, but he's busy watching Claire, who's staring at her monitor with a frown on her face.

"Is... something wrong?" Jack asks. He thinks about what they were just discussing. "I mean, aside from the obvious."

Claire sighs. "We could potentially have a problem, depending on what Ray's mother does. If she says that she was unaware of the abuse, but is willing to leave her partner and make changes now that she knows, the court might consider returning Ray to her."

Jack gives the idea some thought. "I don't know how Ray would feel about that."

"We'd have to talk to him about it, but I've got some reservations about the possibility."

"It's not good that Ray felt like he couldn't tell her, right?"

"Well, predators are skilled at making their victims feel like they have to keep the secret, and it sounds like Ray was groomed from quite a young age, but that's not a great sign, no. I'm also concerned about the fact that Ray says his mother never responded to his behavioral issues. Teenagers can be terrible at articulating their needs, but if Ray was acting out the way he describes it should have been a clear sign that something was wrong."

"Yeah. We could be missing something, though."

"We'll need to talk to Ray about it some more, but he needed a break."

"Yeah. Me too."

***

Michael was surprised when Ray wanted them to leave the room, but he'd tried to understand. Ray has always been rather reluctant to talk about himself. Michael might have opened up about himself, but Ray has never really reciprocated. Michael has always tried to understand it as just the way Ray is, but when Jack was about to leave the room Ray stopped him. He wanted Michael to leave and Jack to stay.

Does Ray trust Jack more than he trusts Michael? Does he just... not trust Michael that much after all? If he doesn't, it's not like Michael can hold it against him. Ray knows he's a shitty person and now that he's got other options, he's distancing himself. It's ridiculous how surprised and hurt Michael is by this; he should have seen it coming.

"You okay, Michael?" Geoff asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," says Michael. "Whatever."

"I know this is tough," says Geoff. "It won't be too much longer, and then... maybe we can do something later, see a movie or something. Something fun. What do you think?"

"Uh-huh." Michael can't think of anything he'd enjoy less. 

"Only if you guys want to, though. I just..." Geoff lowers his voice. "I just want to make this easier for you two."

The door to Claire's office opens and Ray walks out, striding in the opposite direction from Michael and Geoff with his head down and his hands in his pockets. Michael watches him go, feeling kind of sick. Jack and Claire don't appear, though, and Geoff hovers outside the door like he's scared to go in. Eventually the door opens from the other side and Geoff steps back. Michael can see Jack standing in front of him. He looks tired and sad, and Michael wants to hate him. How dare he feel sorry for himself, having to hear about whatever it was Ray was talking about. Something so bad he wouldn't even tell Michael about it,apparently. Ray's the one who had to live through it, Jack just had to hear about it. At least Ray trusted him enough to talk about it.

"Come on," Jack says, stepping back to let Geoff and Michael into the room.

"Is Ray okay?" Geoff asks. 

"He went for a walk," says Jack. "He needed a minute." Michael notices that Jack doesn't answer the question, but whatever. It's not his business now, Ray's made that clear.

"Michael, I have some questions for you as well," says Claire. Oh, right. Michael didn't imagine it would go down like this. He thought Ray would be here, Ray who's already heard most of it and who still considers him a friend... but maybe he was wrong about all that anyway.

"Yeah?"

Geoff and Jack sit in front of Claire's desk and Michael, feeling cornered, sits between them. 

"Did your parents really kick you out?" Geoff asks. Michael bristles. 

"Yes," he snaps. "I didn't lie."

"Just about your age," says Geoff. Michael shrugs and slumps down in his seat. So this is how it's going to go.

"Geoff," murmurs Jack. Claire clears her throat.

"Today isn't about blaming anyone," she says, a little pointedly. "I need to get an accurate idea of the situation which led to you leaving home so that I can help make sure you don't get sent back, if you don't want to be."

Michael shrugs. "I can't go back, they won't take me," he says. "Dad said I wasn't safe to have in the house."

"Why did he say that?"

"Because." Christ, this is like fucking torture. "I got into fights all the time. I got expelled from school because I attacked a teacher." It's okay, Geoff and Jack already know this stuff and they haven't told him to leave yet. 

"And at home, did you behave violently towards people in your family?"

"My dad," Michael says, looking down.

"Why?"

"I dunno... me and him got into fights all the time, and I'd just get so angry..."

"Did you hit him?"

"Yeah..."

"Did he hit you?"

"Well... but it was only because I was being an asshole."

Claire is quiet for a moment but continues typing furiously. "Did he hit your mother, or your sister?"

"Not... not usually."

Claire finally stops typing and meets his eyes. "Would it be accurate to say that your father behaved violently towards the rest of your family, particularly you?" She pauses to let Michael respond. He just shrugs; she can spin it that way if she wants to.

"So occasionally, you retaliated physically in self defence?" Claire adds.

"No, I mean… I think I just wanted to hurt him back."

"Mm, okay. And once you reached an age where you were big enough that you could have hurt him, he made you leave. He pretended it was out of concern for the safety of the rest of the family, but in reality he was the one presenting the gravest threat towards them."

Michael doesn't know what to say. It's too much. His head spins. "No, that's... no, that's not right."

"No?" Claire won't stop _looking _ at him. "How am I wrong?"

"He... I... I deserved it. I acted like a shit."

"And your sister? Did she deserve it?"

"Well... I dunno, sometimes..."

"Your mother?"

"Um..." This is shit, what does she know about his life anyway? "He didn't mean it, he just got mad sometimes."

"Like you do?"

"Fuck you," says Michael. It's basically a reflex. 

"But you didn't get mad like that at your mother or sister. Just your father. Why did you throw that compass at your teacher?"

"He said I was dumb," says Michael. He can still remember how it felt, like his entire life was a pit of quicksand and the more he tried to pull himself out, the more he was stuck, and Mr Toland never let up on reminding him that he was screwing up, making everything worse, until it felt like he was going to explode from his own worthlessness.

Claire types for another minute or so. Maybe she's giving Michael a minute to compose himself, or maybe she just has to finish putting her thoughts down. When she's finished, she looks up at them and says, "Well, I think we've got a few avenues here. We should be able to petition for you to be given temporary guardianship, given that Michael has expressed his wish to stay with you. Leave me with it for a few days; I'll call you once I've worked out the best plan of action."


	10. Chapter 10

Ray's parkour idea did not work out the way it was supposed to. Caiti was _supposed _ to roll her eyes, tell him he couldn't do that, and when he failed to come up with a more suitable topic she was meant to assign one to him. That way, when he inevitably did a really shitty job he’d have someone else to blame. Instead, she'd praised the idea and tricked him into a heap of assured humiliation on top of a ton of physical exertion. Shit's fucked up.

Still, Ray supposes there are some upsides. He can do a halfway-decent cartwheel and he's getting the hang of standing on his hands. Sometimes it's almost kind of... fun, to realise he can actually do things he never thought he'd be capable of. And it takes a bit of concentration, so it's a useful distraction when there's something he doesn't want to think about.

"Want me to hold your legs?" Michael asks. He's been helping Ray practice his handstand, making sure he doesn't lose his balance while he learns to support his weight. It's thoughtful of him, but Ray doesn't want anyone touching him right now. 

"No thanks, I'm good," says Ray, getting in position for a set of, ugh, push-ups.

"You sure? I don't mind helping," says Michael, moving closer. Ray scuttles sideway on his hands and toes, trying to make it look like part of the exercise rather than like he's moving away from Michael. It doesn't really work.

"Yeah, whatever," Michael mutters, backing off a step. "Maybe you'd rather Jack helped you out, huh?"

Okay, Ray can't just ignore that. "What?"

"Since you obviously trust him more than you trust me."

"That's not true!" Ray insists, but he realises with a sinking feeling that it's definitely going to look that way to Michael. 

"I've told you everything about me, and I knew you weren't doing the same but I figured that's just how you were up until today. Turned out you were just waiting to find someone who's not a piece of shit to talk to."

"I needed to talk to that lawyer, you idiot!"

"I guess I am an idiot! If I wasn't, I would have realised that I should make sure you didn't get to know me that well!"

"Fuck you, Michael, you don't get to feel betrayed over this!"

"Hey, hey, what's happening out here?"

Only when he hears Geoff's voice does Ray realise how loudly he was shouting. Geoff descends the steps from the deck to the lawn, forehead furrowed in concern. Jack appears in the doorway behind him.

"What is it?" Jack asks.

"Come on, you two, let's go inside," says Geoff. "Michael, come with me, okay?"

Scowling, Michael follows Geoff inside. Ray grumbles to himself and trails along behind him. Geoff leads Michael into the study and closes the door behind him, while Jack sits on the couch and gives Ray an expectant look.

"What was that all about?" Jack asks.

Ray is seething with anger, almost shaking. "Michael's an _asshole _," he snaps. Jack doesn't reply, or even react much at all, so Ray adds, "Today was shit. It was really, really shit, and I know it was important but that doesn't mean it didn't suck. Michael is just acting like it was a fucking party he didn't get invited to. Like he has the right to my fucking life story!"

"Mm," says Jack. He looks serious and he's clearly paying attention, but Ray is tired of doing all the talking.

"What was I supposed to do?" he demands.

"Exactly what you did," says Jack. "I know it was a really crap day. Whatever helped make it easier for you was the right thing to do."

That's a nice easy answer, but it doesn't solve the problem currently on Ray's plate. "Why would Michael even want to hear about all that anyway? I bet you didn't want to hear about it." Ray is awkwardly reminded that every selfish action, every careless moment of weakness, increases the burden he poses to others, and therefore reduces how much more bullshit they’re likely to tolerate from him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you stay; I would have been fine by myself."

"Don't you apologise for that!" says Jack, and he sounds so uncharacteristically severe that it takes Ray by surprise. "I was happy to stay with you if it helped even a little bit."

Ray shrugs because he's not sure what to say.

"Michael's told you things about his life, hasn't he? The stuff he said in the meeting today, you'd heard that before?"

"Yeah..."

"Did it bother you when he talked to you about it? Was it an inconvenience to you?"

"Of course not!" Ray snaps. 

"You don't wish he'd kept it to himself?"

"No, but..." Ray can see where Jack's going with this, but he's wrong. Ray can't explain why he's wrong, but he is. "He was still being an asshole."

"Yeah," says Jack, cracking a tiny smile. "I think Geoff will set him straight." He hesitates, something else clearly on his mind. "There's something Geoff and I have been wanting to bring up - and Geoff should be suggesting the same thing to Michael right now, so don't think you're being singled out - we think it would be a good idea for you two to go through some kind of therapy."

"Like what?"

"Like, with a psychologist."

"Will they hypnotise me, and bring back my repressed memories?" Ray asks with a heavy layer of sarcasm.

"Probably not. Is that a problem?" Jack asks with a deadpan expression.

Ray rolls his eyes. "Look, dude, it's not that I don't appreciate the thought, but I don't need that bullshit. I'm not a fucking pussy."

"Hm," says Jack. "Is Geoff a pussy?"

"What?" Ray asks wearily.

"You know he used to be in the army, right?"

"Someone mentioned it," Ray grumbles. He can see where this is going.

"When he got back, he was struggling with things a bit, so he started seeing a therapist."

"I've never been in the army," Ray points out.

"No," Jack agrees. "Joining the army is a choice. What happened to you wasn't."

Ray swallows around a sudden lump in his throat. "Okay," he says. "Fine, whatever."

Whatever Geoff said to Michael, by the time they come out of the study he seems a lot calmer, and he looks kind of guilty. He avoids talking to Ray for the rest of the night, and by the time they've both gone to bed, Ray is kind of resigned to things being awkward between them.

"Hey, are you awake?" Michael asks after thirty minutes of tossing and turning.

"No," Ray says. Stupid question, obviously he's still awake.

"I'm sorry. I was being a dick. It's just that you're one of the only people who ever thought I was any good, and I hate feeling like I might have fucked that up."

Ray thinks about that for a minute. He's never realised that his friendship might mean that much to Michael. He’d just always assumed that it was a one-sided thing, and he’d kept the depth of his feelings unexamined and buried where he didn’t have to think about them, lest he realise how broken he really was.

"Do you remember when we met?" Ray asks.

"I was a dumbass," Michael says, laughing a bit. Ray smiles in the dark. Michael’s not wrong.

"No one had ever needed me before. It was nice to feel like I mattered, and like... someone looked up to me? Like it didn't matter if I couldn't stop Bill from... I could still do something useful."

"It wouldn't have changed how I thought of you if I'd known."

"No? Well maybe it would have changed how I thought of me."

Michael seemed to accept that, and Ray was finally able to relax enough to fall asleep.

***

Geoff hasn't seen his therapist in a while, so when he calls her out of the blue she sounds concerned at first. Once he explains the situation, though, she's happy to recommend several therapists who might be able to help Michael and Ray. Another phone call, and he has them both set up with appointments for the following week.

And then... things settle down for a few days. It's remarkably peaceful. Michael shows Geoff snippets of the video he's working on which make him howl with laughter. Ray tries to do a handstand in the house and nearly breaks the coffee table. They wrap up the current season of Red Vs Blue and Geoff has a bit more time on his hands, which he spends doing a ton of paperwork with Claire so that they can try to get awarded some kind of temporary guardianship of the kids. 

The day of their first therapy session rolls around, and this time Geoff is halfway expecting it when Ray and Michael both wake up in a foul mood. They scowl and grumble their way through breakfast and the drive to work and, presumably, the two hours they spend at the office before it's time to go to their appointment, although Geoff is busy and doesn't see much of them in that time.

Michael's appointment is first, and since the doctor's office is only ten minutes away Geoff drives him in separately, intending to come back in an hour to pick Michael up and drop Ray off. 

The psychologist who's been recommended to him is a man about ten years older than Geoff, who meets them in the waiting room. "Hi," he says, "I'm Dr Hervitz. Call me Brad. You must be Michael and Geoff, is that right?"

"That's us," says Geoff, while Michael gives a sullen nod.

"Great! Now, before we get started, I've got a couple of forms for you to fill out." He hands over a clipboard and a pen to Michael, who accepts them reluctantly. "The first one is a short medical history, and the second is a privacy agreement. It says that whatever is said during our therapy sessions is between Michael and us, and I'm not allowed to share it with anyone else unless I think Michael's at risk of hurting himself or someone else. Okay?"

"Cool," says Michael in a monotone, signing the form at the bottom and handing the clipboard back.

"Great, thanks. Well, we might go get started then, if you're ready. We'll be about an hour, okay Geoff?"

"See you then," says Geoff, with a twist of inexplicable nervousness. Is Michael going to be okay? Is this going to do any good? What will they do if it doesn't help? But Michael just follows Brad into his office without looking back, and Geoff has no choice but to leave if he wants to avoid looking like a weirdo by standing around in the waiting room by himself.

An hour passes and he's back, dragging an even more reluctant Ray behind him. Brad and Michael emerge from the doctor's office a few minutes later. Michael seems... okay. Serious, thoughtful, but not upset. Brad seems pretty happy, although he gives Geoff some kind of significant look which he can't really interpret.

"You must be Ray," Brad says, and he gives the same spiel about the medical history and the privacy agreement. They leave Ray there with Geoff promising to come back for him in an hour, and he takes Michael out to the car.

"Was it okay?" Geoff asks anxiously. 

"Yeah."

Geoff waits, and when Michael doesn't offer anything more, he says, "Is Brad nice?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think he'll... help?"

"Dunno."

Jesus. Was Geoff this uncommunicative when he was Michael's age? If so, he's amazed his parents didn't kill him before he reached adulthood. Maybe he's being unreasonable, though. Maybe Michael is deep in thought and Geoff is distracting him like an asshole. He remembers being a kid and feeling like adults were going to drive him crazy with their constant questions. He'd just never realised what it might be like from the adults' side.

Michael is silent for the rest of the ride. As soon as Geoff has parked, he's out of the car and has disappeared inside to do god knows what. Geoff heads to his own office where he spends perhaps the least productive forty minutes of his entire career, attempting to get some work done and failing miserably.

When Geoff returns to his car, he finds Michael already there. He must seem surprised, because Michael gives him a look as though to say, "Of course I'm not going to let you go to pick Ray up without me. Come on."

Geoff tries not to be a nosy dick this time, but the silence is uncomfortable so he says, "You doing okay?"

"What do you want to know?" Michael asks.

"What?" says Geoff, panicked. "Nothing! I respect your privacy! But if there's anything you want to talk about I'm also happy to listen!"

Michael snickers, and when Geoff glances at him he just looks amused, not annoyed at all. "Come on, you've been dying to know the details since you picked me up."

"Not true! I'm just showing my concern. Come on, Michael."

"You want to know if I'm fixed."

"No," says Geoff more firmly. "I want to know if Brad helped because I care about you and I want you to feel better. It's not about something being wrong with you or you needing to be fixed. And if you don't want to tell me about it that's fine, because you have a right to your privacy, but that doesn't mean I won't worry about you."

"Okay, you've made your point, Jesus," Michael mutters, looking deeply uncomfortable. Geoff gives it a rest, but makes a mental note that Michael can be made to drop any obnoxious line of questioning with the application of sufficiently heartfelt talking about feelings.

Brad and Ray meet them in the waiting room again. This time, Brad looks somewhat drained, while Ray looks exactly the same as when Geoff dropped him off. Geoff glances over them with a sinking feeling that the session might not have gone very well. He tries to communicate his concern to Brad with a look, and this time Brad is the one who returns the look without seeming to comprehend.

"Did... everything go ok?" Geoff asks. Ray responds with a teenagerly grunt while Brad pastes on a smile which doesn't even look particularly forced.

"It was nice to meet you all," he says, sounding nearly as chipper as he had before. "I'll see you at the same time next week, okay?"

And that's it. Geoff doesn't know what he was expecting, except that he was expecting something, and what he's getting appears to be nothing. He asks Ray how things went, and Ray answers with even less detail than Michael had. With Michael in the car as well, Geoff doesn't want to push too hard. Ray might not want go talk in front of the two of them. It's just really awkward.

At least it doesn't seem to have made anything worse?

***

Everything just keeps getting worse, and it's bullshit because Ray's the only one who seems to notice. Either that, or they're all better than him at pretending everything's fine. Either alternative is plausible.

He has to present his stupid parkour project tomorrow. Sure, he can walk a little bit on his hands now and even do a not-terrible cartwheel, but that's if no one's watching. In front of the group, he is absolutely guaranteed to fall on his ass and eat literally all the shit in the world.

He still doesn't have his test results back. He's fine, and he feels fine, and that's what he'll tell anyone who listens, but Jack must have got into his head. The nagging worry creeps into his thoughts at the slightest opportunity. When he feels tired, he worries. If he gets a headache, he worries. If he feels nauseous, or itchy, or something aches, the fear, the _'what if'_ is only seconds behind.

He didn't talk to Brad. The part that pisses him the fuck off is that he feels guilty about it. Geoff and Jack spent a bunch of money so that he could sit and talk to this guy, and in return Ray treated him to fifty minutes of silence.

It doesn't fucking make sense. Who has a job which is literally just sitting around talking to people until they feel better? Why the hell would Geoff and Jack pay good money just for Ray to go talk to someone like that, just so he could feel better?

Why the fuck should Ray feel guilty about stonewalling the guy anyway? Some asshole trying to act like Ray's buddy, pretending to give a shit about him, pretending like they're friends? Ray knows where that leads. He's not playing.

It'll go wrong soon, anyway. He's walking a tightrope between too many different pitfalls, and it's only a matter of time before he falls one way or another.

In the living room, Michael is working on the finishing touches of his own project, giving off an aura of concentration as though he's developing a cure for cancer. Michael is possibly even more nervous about presenting his project than Ray is, which is bullshit in Ray's opinion. His video looks awesome, and all he has to do on the day is play it. No one's going to expect him to talk or do anything.

"Are you okay?" Michael asks, taking Ray by surprise.

"Of course. Why?"

"You've seemed kind of out of it since, uh... since therapy?"

Since therapy. Fuck, what a weird sentence.

"Was it hard?" Michael asks hesitantly.

"No, it was fine. I didn't do anything." Ray still feels like maybe he should keep that secret, but he doesn't want to. He wants to at least be able to tell Michael the truth.

"What do you mean, you didn't do anything?"

Fuck, never mind. Ray now wishes he'd kept his mouth shut. He shrugs, looking at the ground.

"Didn't you talk to him?" Michael demands. Ray shrugs again. "Fuck, Ray, why not?"

"Brad's a dick," says Ray. 

"He seemed alright to me," says Michael, after a pause. 

"Yeah, well. What did you talk to him about?"

Now it’s Michael's turn to look uncomfortable. "I dunno," he says awkwardly. "Just... a bunch of stuff. Like, about home and all that. And he wants me to think about, like, what makes someone a good person or bad."

"Seriously?" Ray asks with a snicker. "That sounds stupid."

Michael hunches his shoulders and looks away, and Ray realises that maybe he's acting like kind of a dick. Of course, Michael doesn't waste time before counter-attacking. 

"So are you just not going to talk to him ever? Are you going to tell Geoff and Jack that you don't like him?"

"No!" snaps Ray, feeling a stab of panic. "They don't need to know, Michael, it's not a big deal."

"It sort of is, though," says Michael. "He can't help you if you don't talk to him."

"I don't need help. What good is sitting around talking going to do anyway?"

Michael's face falls. "You really think it won't help?"

Aw, fuck. Ray shifts so he can see Michael's face better. "Do you..." Fuck, he has no idea how to ask this question without sounding like a dick. "Are you worried he won't help you? Because... you're fine, I mean... there's nothing wrong with you." Jesus, this is so awkward.

"There is, though," says Michael. "Like, I'm always angry, and it sucks."

"Yeah, but..." Ray has to stop and make himself think. Sure, he knows Michael gets angry about anything and everything, and sometimes it's a pain in the ass, but it made sense, when they were on the streets. There was so much to be angry about, and Michael's anger had often been useful. He's been frustrated that Michael hasn't toned it down since they came to stay with Jack and Geoff, but it had never occurred to him that Michael _couldn't_ control it. He'd just thought Michael didn't realise that he should. "Why are you still angry?" he asks, confused. "Things are better now, aren't they?"

Michael shrugs, looking deeply uncomfortable. "I guess," he says, but he doesn't sound too sure. Ray waits. "But," Michael continues, "there's still so much bullshit. The other day Tina said the way I was structuring my presentation was wrong, but it's how I was taught to do it at my old school, and Geoff complained that I left a mess in the living room and he didn't even notice that I'd done the dishes, and Jack said I was distracting Ryan and Gavin from doing their work but they're the ones who asked if I wanted to watch how they edited that video, and it all just pisses me off!"

Ray blinks, because that's all a lot more than he was expecting. "Well... Tina didn't say you were doing it wrong. She just suggested another way that might work better."

"That's just another way of saying I was doing it wrong! She thinks I'm dumb, everyone does!"

"Come on, dude." Ray laughs awkwardly. "If anyone's dumb here, it's me."

"You're not dumb," Michael says immediately.

Ray shrugs. He has no illusions about himself, and he's not as bothered by other people thinking he's stupid as Michael seems to be. "If you say so. But if Tina thinks you're dumb, she must think I'm a complete fucking idiot."

"She doesn't," Michael grumbles, but he's clearly thinking about something else. "You think I'm being d-, uh, silly, don't you? Because it's probably not true and even if it is, who cares? But I ask myself the same thing, and I still feel angry."

Ray thinks about it, unsure what to say aside from, 'you're not stupid'. "What did Brad say about it?" he asks doubtfully.

Michael shrugs, looking uncomfortable. "I dunno," he says. "Just that I should think about stuff."

"Think about stuff," Ray repeats flatly. Wow, how wrong he was to doubt this guy's advice.

"Yeah, stuff like... what makes someone a good person or a bad person, stuff like that." 

Ray keeps quiet, unsure what the connection is between that and the anger Michael's talking about.

"So, like, whether being angry all the time means someone is a bad person," Michael continues thoughtfully.

"Does it?" asks Ray. 

After a pause, Michael says hesitantly, "Brad said no, that it's the things you do."

Ray scoffs. "How is that supposed to make you feel less angry? I told you, the guy's a quack."

"Yeah," Michael says. "I guess so."

That was an awful lot of serious talk, so they move quickly on to lighter topics, like who is going to kick whose ass in GTA (Ray) and who will be the first to perfect the last mission in Hitman (also Ray). It provides a decent distraction from the humiliation which definitely awaits Ray tomorrow morning.

Everyone heads outside to the small patch of lawn next to the church so they can see Ray fall on his ass. Ray looks at the crowd (sure, it's less than a dozen people, but it feels like a crowd) and gulps. Caiti had insisted that he incorporate some of the safety stuff he's learned into his presentation, so he starts explaining how to stretch and how to fall, while Caiti reminds him again and again to speak up. He finishes up by walking a few steps on his hands, flipping onto his feet, and doing a cartwheel, and even though he doesn't manage to keep his legs extended the whole way round and the cartwheel ends a little short, everyone claps and makes encouraging noises. 

Afterwards, Tina asks if anyone wants to ask questions, and to Ray's surprise the kids do. They want to know how much practice he did each day and what kind of research he did and if he can teach them. Bailey asks if he had any spectacular failures while he was learning, but by now Ray is feeling pretty confident from being treated like an expert and it doesn't bother him to tell the story of one of the funnier times he fell on his ass. Everyone laughs, but in a friendly way, and he... it feels good.

They head back inside (not a moment too soon, in Ray's opinion) to watch Michael's video. It looks pretty slick to Ray. Michael learned a bunch of editing tricks for this project, and there's a bunch of fancy cuts, some of them funny and some of them scary, given the topic. The applause at the end is rather louder than it was for Ray, but he's not too bothered. Michael did work hard on this, and he deserves all the praise for it.

Alana presents her program, which looks impressive even if most of it goes over Ray's head. Bailey reads an excerpt from his short story, only a few sentences but everyone applauds for that too, although Tina doesn't get them to ask questions like she did for everyone else. After they, they break off to work on... what did Caiti call it? Self-assessment?

Ray still thinks the idea is pretty stupid. He designed everything about this project, right down to the grading criteria, so what's to stop him from getting an A? But he's got a sheet to fill out, so he sits down and starts writing some bullshit about how he learned the importance of daily practice.

Caiti spends some time with each of them, helping them with the work and offering feedback, and since Ray is sitting right next to Michael he can't help but overhear their conversation.

Caiti is very pleased with Michael's work - like she should be - and she tells him so. Michael is obviously pretty happy with how it turned out, and talks about several aspects of the video that he says he's not sure Caiti noticed. And then Caiti asks Michael if there's anything he thinks he could have improved.

"I don't know, not really. I did everything I was hoping to. There's a lot more footage I'd have liked to use, but then it would have been too long, so... no, I think it was pretty good."

Caiti smiles. "It was great, Michael," she says, "but part of the point of education, and learning in general, is to push yourself to improve. It's not really about finding flaws in what you did, it's about thinking about what you can do even better next time."

"I dunno," Michael says. He sounds guarded now, almost sullen.

"Well... for example, I can really tell that you put a lot of work into the editing of your video and making it look professional. Maybe next time around, you can really focus on structuring your argument and making it persuasive."

Michael sighs irritably. "You can just tell me it sucked, you don't have to sugar-coat it," he says, and Ray can hear the anger building in his voice now.

"I don't think it sucked," says Caiti firmly. "But, okay... the argument was the presentation's weak point."

"That's bull!" says Michael, his voice rising now. Ray sees the kids at the other end of the room look their way. "I said what made each game good!"

"Sure, but... what about comparing the different games, and explaining why one feature is more important than another. That way people will know why you put them in the order you did..."

"You don't even think the ranking made sense?" Michael snaps. He stands up abruptly, knocking his chair over. "What was the point of me doing all that work just for you to tell me it was shit?"

"That's not what I'm saying..." Caiti says, but Michael has already stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Everyone looks after him for a second, then quietly goes back to what they were doing.

Ray sits in his seat like a lump, unsure whether he should go after Michael or not. He kind of wants to, he wants to make sure Michael's not too upset, but he doesn't know what he could even say. He kind of wants to tell Michael to stop being a jerk, that Caiti wasn't saying that his project sucked and he was overreacting. But he remembers his talk with Michael last night and decides that it probably wouldn't help. Better to give Michael some space until he calms down.

Caiti watches Michael storm out with a tired expression, then walks away from the table to drink from her water bottle, sitting on a shelf in the corner. After a few minutes she returns to Ray's side, giving him a faint smile.

He feels the need to say something, as though he's responsible for Michael in some way. "He doesn't mean it," Ray says. "He's just... dealing with a lot." It's so terribly inadequate and doesn't really explain anything at all, but it would be a betrayal of Michael's trust to say anything more. He crossed that line with Geoff and Jack because he didn't think he had a choice, but once was enough.

Caiti's smile becomes a bit more genuine. "I know," she says. "Thanks, Ray. Do you feel up to discussing your project now?"

"I guess."

Ray shows her what he's written so far. It's not very much. He doesn't really know what to say. But Caiti looks at the page and nods, and starts asking questions, and Ray realises that he really did learn a lot, things like how to look for information and how to judge if it's reliable or not. Caiti talks about the organisational skills needed to fit regular practice time into a daily routine, and Ray rolls his eyes because it seems so _obvious _, but no, Caiti insists, that's a skill too.

Then, kind of tentatively, she asks what he'd like to improve. Ray snickers a little and says, "I'll be a bit more careful with my choice of subject next time."

Caiti laughs. "Have you thought about what that might be?"

"Well... not really."

"Hmm. Were you nervous about presenting your project to the group?"

"A little. I didn't want everyone to see me screw up."

"Yeah. Well, not every project needs to have a presentation. But Ray, I really think you should take the chance to push yourself, have a go at something you might not feel confident with or which is outside your comfort zone. Don't worry about comparing yourself to anyone else. What we're doing isn't about getting you to meet some standard of performance, okay? It's about looking at where you are now and working out how to take the next step, whether it's something you're already skilled at or something you've never tried before. That's called having a growth mindset."

Ray nods. He's not as bothered by the idea of Caiti thinking he's stupid as he is by the possibility that the rest of the group might laugh at him, so he's open to the idea of challenging himself a bit so long as he can do it without an audience.

"Do you think you'll be able to finish this by yourself?" Caiti asks. Ray looks down at the sheet he's been filling out. 

"Oh, yeah. Sure."

"Okay, great. I'm going to go talk to Michael."

***

Michael was quiet for the rest of the day. He was quiet when Geoff came to pick him and Ray up, even when Caiti pulled Geoff aside for a short conversation about who knew what. He was quiet when Geoff said, "Guys, your doctor called about your test results so we're going to swing past the hospital on our way back to the office, okay?" even when Ray clenched his fists so tight his knuckles went white. And he was quiet when Ray was called into the doctor's examination room, leaving him to wait outside, and Geoff turned to him and said, "Want to talk about what happened today?"

Michael did not want to talk about what had happened. Not ever if he could avoid it, but he could tell from Geoff's tone that he wasn't really interested in what Michael wanted. That was just his way of bringing it up.

"I know I'm stupid," Michael said in an effort to ward off the accusation.

"I thought we'd been over this," said Geoff. "You're not stupid."

"Maybe I just forgot because I'm so stupid," Michael retorted. Geoff gave an almost imperceptible sigh.

"Have it your way," said Geoff. "I'm just trying to understand why you got so upset at Caiti. You're not telling me _she _ said you were stupid?"

"Of course not," said Michael impatiently. "She's too _nice_. She thinks I'm even dumber than my dad did. She thinks I won't notice that she thinks I'm stupid."

"Caiti doesn't think you're stupid," said Geoff, but he sounds kind of distracted, like he's thinking about something else as he talks. "So your dad told you that you're stupid?"

Michael shrugs. Geoff should have been able to figure that out already. Maybe he's stupid too.

"That doesn't mean he was right."

That's the kind of statement that Michael could get righteously worked up over, but before he has a chance Ray bounces out of the doctor's office.

"I passed, I passed!" he exclaims like a fucking goofball. 

"It wasn't that kind of test, idiot," says Michael. 

"You wouldn't be saying that if I'd failed," says Ray. His steps are lighter and his eyes brighter, like every inch of him is saying, "Worried? You think I was worried? Of course not, I never worry about anything."

"Michael?" the doctor calls, and it's his turn.

His test results are fine, of course. He never really considered that they might not be. He leaves the office to see Ray and Geoff talking about something, Ray looking more animated than he has all week. Michael hadn't even realised how stressed Ray was about his test results, and he hates that. Ray used to talk to him about shit like that... or at least, Michael thought he did.

They arrive at the office and Michael is all set to disappear, but Geoff calls his name before he gets far enough away. Michael grumbles and walks back to him.

Might as well get this over with. "How much trouble am I in?" Michael asks, shrugging just to show that he doesn't care.

Geoff looks confused. "None," he says. "I'm not your dad, or your boss. Yet," he adds jokingly, but it kind of falls flat.

"Oh, yeah," says Michael. "Well, good! I didn't do anything wrong anyway. I worked my ass off on that video and Caiti said it sucked."

"Yeah?" Geoff asks gently. "What did she say, exactly?"

And Michael stops, because she didn't say it sucked, and he knows that. She said it was flawed, which is not the same thing... it's not supposed to be the same thing, but it might as well be, mightn't it? At this point he doesn't even remember her exact words, just that she thought he'd worked so hard on the video that he hadn't put much thought into the script, and it had come as such a blow after being so proud of how the video turned out. He'd felt like maybe, finally, there was something he was good at. He should have known better. 

"I fucked it up," he admits in a small voice. 

"I don't think that," says Geoff. "Does Caiti think that? Is that what she said?"

Geoff doesn't expect him to say yes, Michael can tell. And she'd been pretty nice about the whole thing, really, coming after him when he stormed out and telling him some story about being a kid and studying hard for some exam only to fail. She'd asked, "Does that make me stupid?" and maybe it did, but Caiti had too much say over Michael's life for him to do more than shrug and say, "I dunno."

She'd tried the exam again and passed the second time, and Michael could tell she meant to be encouraging with this whole story, but all he could think was that he'd already put 100% of his effort into the video, and he had nothing more to give to make it better. If it wasn't good enough, then he wasn't good enough, and that was that.

"She said it sucked, she just said it in a nice way," says Michael. "It's fine, I'll... try harder next time." That's not true, but it's what Geoff wants to hear, and he's being so patient with Michael right now.

"No one thinks you didn't try-" Geoff starts, but Michael doesn't have time for that. 

"Yeah, you all know how dumb I am and how hard I had to work on that project. The only mystery is why you think I can do any better."

Geoff is clenching his jaw. Michael pauses and waits to see what he'll do.

"Okay," Geoff says after a minute. "I don't want to argue with you about this, so that's fine. Maybe... maybe this is something you can talk to Brad about, next week. If you want to."

"Yeah, sure," Michael mutters. Anything to make this conversation be over.

What a shitty day.


	11. Chapter 11

Geoff had known, in an abstract kind of way, that living with a couple of teenagers would be a chaotic, unpredictable mess, but the reality was something else. He kind of misses the days when his biggest issues were wrangling Gavin and Jeremy at work and figuring out what to make for dinner, instead of trying to predict which innocuous thing is going to trigger a storm of teenage angst.

Okay, not really. But fuck.

But right now, he needs to try to put Michael out of his mind and focus on preparing for RTX. It's still a few months away, which means most of the office is still in the mindset that they have plenty of time, there's no need to rush, what's the issue, Geoff, come on. Meanwhile, Geoff is uncomfortably aware of just how much there is left to do and how busy they're going to be between now and then.

Geoff grumbles under his breath and gets to work. The schedule which is supposed to be complete by now is still only half done - he sends off a brief email about it. 'Looks good, where's the rest?' The budget for catering is actually finished, will miracles never cease. Geoff looks over it and signs it off. Most excitingly, he's able to confirm a guest who he really thought wasn't going to be available. He wraps up that call with an enormous grin on his face, feeling ready to tackle the next problem, which is...

His phone rings and Geoff answers without thinking. It's only when Claire is done introducing herself and asks Geoff if now is a good time that he realises this call has nothing to do with work at all.

"No. I mean, yeah. I mean, what's up? Is there news?"

"I've got an application for guardianship ready to present to the court. You and Jack will need to make a time to come in and sign it, and if Ray and Michael could each provide a statement that will help too."

"Okay, of course. Yeah. Anytime, we want to sort this out as soon as possible. Tomorrow?"

"Sounds good. It'll probably take a couple of weeks before we hear anything back, but it'll get the ball rolling."

"Yeah. Yeah, great. Thanks."

After the call, Geoff looks at the list of things he was planning to try to finish today, and realises he has no hope of focusing on any of them. Who cares, anyway? RTX is months away. They could be learning about the decision on Ray and Michael's future as early as next week.

***

Jack is aware that he tends to come across to other people as the sensible one. Out of Rooster Teeth, for some reason, he is among those the rest of the staff think they can come to with their issues, worries, problems and questions. He's cool with it, mostly. He likes being approachable and he's happy to help. It just astonishes him sometimes that people don't realise he's every bit as lost and confused as they are.

At least Michael has an excuse, though. He's still a kid, he hasn't yet learned that no one really knows how life works or how to be an adult.

"How long will the social worker be here?" he asks Jack. It's the third very similar question he's asked in the last twenty minutes.

Having a social worker visit the house and interview everyone was one of the steps Claire said they would need to take as part of the process of getting guardianship of Ray and Michael. She's due to arrive in half an hour, and she can't come soon enough if it'll get Michael off his back.

"I don't know, not that long," says Jack. "I'm sure she's busy."

"So it's a girl?" Michael asks at once.

"He _or_ she," Jack says with a sigh.

"What kinds of questions will she ask?"

"Probably not as many as you," Jack mutters. 

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Hey, Michael, why don't you go play Xbox or something while you wait?"

"Well... ok. I might have time to beat my GTA high score."

Christ. "Or," says Jack, "we can have a round of Mario Party." 

"Fine."

There's a short argument about who gets to be Luigi (Jack puts up just enough of a fight to make Michael feel like he's won). Ray plays as Waluigi, Jack picks Princess Peach, and Geoff wanders in just in time to join as Bowser. By the time the social worker arrives, they're all sprawled on the couch and have maybe, possibly, managed to settle some of their nervousness. 

One knock at the door is all it takes for Jack to remember why they're at home at 2 pm on a Thursday afternoon, though. He gets up, dropping his controller on the floor, then thinking better of it and picking it up along with a cushion that got knocked off the couch.

Jack answers the door, with the kids behind him and Geoff standing behind them. He says, "Hi?" and it sounds a lot more like a question than he would have liked.

The social worker's name is Susanne. She's younger than Jack was expecting - even though he would have said, before meeting her, that he wasn't expecting anything. Her dark hair is gathered in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, and she shakes Jack's hand and then Michael's, Ray's and Geoff's. The kids obviously don't know quite what to make of her, eyeing her suspiciously from a safe distance, but Susanne gets right down to business.

"To be awarded guardianship, you'll need a recommendation," she says briskly. "I'll need you to show me around the house, particularly the boys' bedrooms, and I'll need to speak with each of you individually."

Jack, who was about to offer her some coffee, looks at the way Susanne flips open her notebook and readies her pen, and decides not to bother. They walk Susanne around the house. Jack hopes it's not too obvious how much cleaning they've been doing in the last few days, but then he sees a dirty plate sitting in the sink and wants to groan. Susanne doesn't comment on anything until they reach Ray and Michael's room, when she asks if they wouldn't rather each have a room to themselves.

"No,"says Michael. He looks confused, like he doesn't even understand why she would ask. Ray just shakes his head. Jack feels bad - he and Geoff had put the kids in the same room originally because it had been obvious that trying to split them up would not be well received. But there's no reason they should have to keep sharing now, unless they want to.

"Are you sure?" Jack asks. "We do have another spare room." It's much smaller and cramped with storage of course, but still.

"We're sure," says Michael. 

After that Susanne takes each of them for a short interview. Jack doesn't know what she says to the kids, but with him she is just as to the point as she has been throughout the visit.

"What kind of experience do you have in caring for children?" she asks.

Jack says "Uh," and then, "I've babysat for my sister's kids a few times." He's pretty sure that's not the answer Susanne was looking for.

"And what is your motivation in taking in Michael and Ray?" 

"Well... they're just kids," says Jack. Susanne raises an eyebrow as though to say that he hasn't answered the question. "They were living on the streets, but they deserve to have a home and be safe and go to school and have people who care about them."

"And those people are you and Geoff?"

"I mean, yes?" Despite himself, Jack can feel a growing irritation with this line of questioning. He understands why Susanne had to ask these questions, of course, but it doesn’t make it any easier. "You read about how Ray was stabbed, right? And we took Michael to the police station to make a statement. But when Geoff pointed out that Michael was clearly underage, the cops didn't seem to care. Like they had bigger things on their plate than a kid who could pass for eighteen in a dim light. And, well, we didn't want to leave them alone to get hurt again, and it just seemed like this was the only way."

Susanne doesn't seem terribly moved by Jack's speech, but she does say "Hmm, " and makes a note on her clipboard. Jack bites his tongue to keep from making a sarcastic comment, and after a moment Susanne says, "Okay, I think that's enough. Thank you."

She and Jack rejoin the others in the living room, where Michael immediately asks, "So, can we stay?"

Susanne smiles at him, and it actually looks pretty genuine. "I need to write up my findings and send my recommendation to the judge. It'll take a few days."

"But what are you going to recommend?"

"I'm sorry, you'll have to wait for the formal advice," Susanne answers. "We never disclose our findings in person, whatever the outcome."

"That's stupid," Michael grumbles. 

"It's fine, Michael," says Jack firmly, because he realises that Susanne probably does this kind of thing a lot and probably has very good reasons for not sharing the outcome of a visit, even if it's good news. "Thank you for your time," he says politely, walking Susanne to the door. She thanks him in return, and then it's over.

Jack closes the door behind her, feeling slightly shaken. It’s rather deflating to realise that, at this point in time, nothing has changed. They still have a wait ahead of them. After the stress and anxiety of the inspection, it’s hard to adjust.

"What about some lunch?" Geoff asks, obviously sharing Jack's train of thought and wanting to distract the kids from worrying.

***

Brad appears to be taking a different approach today. "It's okay if you don't want to talk to me," he says. "If there's something I'm doing which bothers you, or that you don't like, you can tell me. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"It's fine. I just don't really have anything to talk about."

"Well, we can talk about anything you like. How are things coming along for you at home?"

Ray shrugs without answering. He wishes he could tell if this was getting to Brad or not. It would help if he could predict what he was going to do. It doesn’t matter that much, though. Ray doesn't trust this guy and he's not going to tell him anything.

After the session Brad leads Ray back out to the waiting room where Geoff is waiting, and then he says, "Geoff, I wonder if you have a few minutes?"

"Of course," says Geoff. He instantly looks concerned, but not as concerned as Ray feels. What is Brad doing? 

Brad sits in a chair opposite Geoff. Looking at Ray, he gestures to the empty seat next to him. Oh, hell no. Ray steps back, pinning Brad with a flat stare.

Brad sighs and turns back to Geoff. "It's not uncommon for a patient to find that a particular therapist isn't a good fit for them, and in Ray's case I think he's not comfortable talking to me. I want to recommend that Ray see someone else. I have a few suggestions, if you like."

"Uh," says Geoff, clearly taken aback by the news. "I mean, sure, if that's what you... is everything okay, Ray?"

Ray doesn't answer. He doesn't think he could if he wanted to. What the fuck is Brad's problem? Was Geoff not paying him enough? Is Ray really so unbearable that just sitting quietly with him in a room for an hour is too hard? Maybe Brad thinks he can find another patient to fill the spot who'll be more willing to suck his dick.

Okay, maybe that last one is unfair. Brad hasn't really given him any reason to think he'd do something like that. But still, what the fuck? All he had to do was mind his own fucking business and keep pocketing Geoff's money, what was so hard about that?

"Like I said, it's not unusual," Brad says. Then he suggests a few names to Geoff, who listens and asks questions and says things like, "What do you think, Ray?"

Ray just shrugs and doesn't answer. He's not actually listening anyway.

They leave the clinic with a list of phone numbers and Ray climbs into Geoff's car with a sense of trepidation. Geoff doesn't speak as they pull out of the parking lot, but once they're stopped at a red light he says, "Why didn't you tell us you didn't like Brad?"

"Brad was fine. He's making a big deal over nothing."

"Hm." The light turns green and Geoff makes a right turn. "Therapy's not going to do you much good if you can't open up to him, though."

"Well, maybe I don't need therapy! Maybe I'm just fine! I never asked for this, no one forced you to spend all that money on me! I'm trying to get along and not cause more trouble but nothing I do is good enough for you! I go to your fucking classes and your stupid therapist and I don't complain, but you want me to talk to the prick as well?"

Geoff doesn't respond immediately, focusing on crossing three lanes of traffic to make a left turn, but once they've pulled into a quieter street he pulls the car over and looks at Ray. 

"I never thought this was all bothering you so much," Geoff says with a concerned frown. Ray groans. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything, but things are going to be a lot harder for you if you don't finish school. And therapy... I'm not angry about Brad, but don't you think it's worth trying to find someone you can work with? If you really don't want to, I won't make you go, but..."

"That's not the point! Why does any of this have to be your problem? I never asked you and Jack to butt in!"

"So you'd rather have been left to bleed to death in the street?"

"Great, now I get to be in debt to you forever!"

"What the fuck? Who said anything about debt?"

"Ugh!" Geoff wasn't going to get it, and Ray was tired of trying to make him understand. The car was still pulled up to the kerb, so Ray unclipped his seatbelt and shoved the door open. 

"Ray, what are you doing?" Geoff demanded, sounding alarmed. Ray got out of the car and hurried up the street. "Ray!"

Geoff got out of the car and ran after him, but Ray knew his way around and had had a lot of practice avoiding douchebags who wanted to give him a hard time. He sprinted to the corner, turned into the first store he came across, and waited for Geoff to pass the window before leaving and heading back the other way.

It was easier to deal with people who made it clear what they wanted and what Ray owed them. He'd had enough of dealing with this shit.

***

Michael had spent the time since he got back from therapy sitting quietly by himself in the breakroom. It was unusual enough for him that Jack had asked twice if he was feeling okay, and everyone else kept giving him worried looks. He was fine, though. He just had a lot to think about.

He had so much to think about that he was still sitting there when Geoff left to pick Ray up, and still there when he realised Geoff had been gone longer than he should have. He went to find Jack, who was sitting with his cellphone to his ear and a concerned expression on his face.

"Hey, Geoff," said Jack, "just checking to make sure everything's ok. Call me when you get this."

"Where is he?" Michael demanded as soon as Jack had hung up the phone.

"I don't know, Michael. Maybe the traffic's bad. "

"It can't be that bad, they're only ten minutes away."

"I'm sure they'll be here soon. There's nothing to worry about."

"If you're not worried, why did you leave Geoff a voicemail?" Michael demanded, feeling a spark of frustration. "I'm not a kid, you can't bullshit me."

Instead of looking angry, Jack just seemed kind of sad. Michael gritted his teeth and tried not to lose his temper.

This was what he'd been talking about with Brad earlier. Brad had said, "why do people get angry?" and Michael had said, "because they don't get what they want."

Then Brad had said, "Well, most of the things people do and feel have a purpose, or a benefit. What's the _purpose _ of getting angry?"

Michael had had to think much harder about that. "It makes you want to fight," he said. "So if someone's hassling you, or something, you don't feel scared."

"Hm," Brad said. "So being angry can help you stand up for yourself, or even defend yourself."

"Well... yeah."

"And have you had times in your life where you needed to defend yourself?"

"Yeah," Michael mumbled reluctantly. He hoped Brad wasn't going to ask for details, but he didn't. 

"So in the past, getting angry has served a purpose for you. You've had reasons for it, and it's helped you. Isn't that right?"

"I guess," said Michael. When Brad put it like that, he couldn't really argue, even if what he was saying didn't feel right.

"But now things have changed, and getting angry often isn't the best approach anymore, is it?"

Michael shook his head.

"The reason I'm telling you all this is because you shouldn't feel badly or ashamed of your anger. It doesn't make you a bad person. We all have reasons for the things we do and feel. But when we go through a trauma or grow up in a dysfunctional environment, it can cause us to develop coping mechanisms which are counterproductive outside of that situation. One of my jobs is to help you replace them with healthier coping mechanisms. Does that make sense?"

Michael shrugged, but then offered a hesitant nod, because it really did make sense, even if it felt like it shouldn't. "What should I do, then?" he asked. 

Brad had talked a bunch more about being aware of what was making him angry and trying to address the root cause of his feelings instead of letting them control him. It hadn't seemed all that practical to him at the time, but now Michael looks at Jack and says, "I know you're worried. You don't have to lie about it, that makes me... that makes me think something really bad must have happened."

Jack nods. "I am worried," he admits. "But I also know it's probably nothing, so I'm trying not to dwell on it too much."

"Okay. Yeah, I get it," says Michael. "Do... do you think you can try calling Geoff again?"

"Sure," saysJack, already pulling out his phone, but he stops when something moves outside the window. 

"That's Geoff's car," Michael says, hurrying to the door which leads to the parking lot. It was a bit silly, maybe, now that he knew everything was fine, but he just wanted to see Geoff and Ray and make sure. Just so that he knew. Nothing too weird about that, was there?

The gravel of the parking lot crunches under Michael's feet. The driver's side door opens and Geoff steps out, and... that’s it. No one else gets out of the car, and when Michael looks through the windows, he can see that no one else is even in the car.

"Geoff?" he asks. "Where's Ray?"

One look at Geoff's face is all he needs to know that something is wrong after all. Something is terribly wrong.

***

Geoff takes in Michael's anxious expression. He already feels like there’s a pit in his stomach but now he’s so aware of it that it’s almost painful. "He's gone," Geoff says, looking over Michael's shoulder to Jack and hoping that he can do something, anything, to fix this. "He ran off. I couldn't find him."

"What?" Michael shouts, moving forward to put his hands on Geoff's shoulders. "What? What did you do?"

Jack comes to stand at Geoff's side. "What happened?" he asks, his voice calm.

"Brad suggested we look into finding Ray a different therapist, someone he's more comfortable with. I was talking to Ray about it in the car and he got upset and left."

"Bullshit!" Michael yells, his voice growing louder and louder. "You knew that would stress him out! What did you say to him?"

He shoves at Geoff's chest. Geoff lets himself be pushed, not resisting, but Jack steps in between them and takes hold of Michael's arm. "Come on, Michael, that's not going to help."

"Don't fucking touch me!"

"Michael, go inside and let Ryan know Geoff and I aren't going to be around this afternoon," says Jack. Geoff hears the stomping as Michael storms off, and then Jack is standing right in front of him, nuding Geoff to look at him. "Geoff, where did this happen? And how long ago?"

"We were on Clarence Street. He ran up Langdon Avenue and I didn't see where he went. I looked for him for ages. We were just on our way back from therapy."

Ray's therapy appointment was supposed to end at half-past two, so he's been missing for at least an hour. "Shit," says Jack. "Okay, don't worry. We'll go back and look for him, and with the two of us I'm sure we'll find him." Geoff nods. Jack’s trying, and Geoff loves him for it, but he doesn’t really sound like he believes what he’s saying.

He hears the door open, and looks across the parking lot to see Michael emerge, followed by Ryan, Gavin and Jeremy.

"Guys?" Geoff asks, confused.

"We heard you might need some help," says Ryan. 

"But you're meant to be filming GTA," says Geoff. 

"Oh, bugger that!" says Gavin. "We can catch up later, this is more important.”

Touched, Geoff lets out a breath and feels just a little bit better. They’re a good bunch of guys.

Jack pulls out his phone and opens Google maps. "Ray ran off somewhere around here," he says, pointing to the intersection Geoff had mentioned. "Let's take two cars and meet there. Make sure you all have your phones." He looks at Geoff like he’s just remembered something. "Did you try calling Ray's cell?"

Geoff nods. "Yeah, of course. He's not answering."

"Oh, well," says Jack. "What if I give it a try? Maybe he..." Jack hesitates, clearly trying to think of something to say that doesn't sound like 'maybe Ray just doesn't want to talk to you,' until Geoff finally takes pity on him.

"Yeah, good idea," he says. "You're not the one who pissed him off, so..."

They get back into Geoff's car, with Geoff driving and Jack dialling Ray on his cell phone. It goes to voicemail, so then Michael tries with the same result. After that, they sit in tense silence until they reach the corner where Ray went missing.

"Let's pair up," Jack suggests. He’s got Google maps open on his phone again. "Ryan and Gavin, you take these streets here..." He outlines an area on the map with his finger. "Geoff and Michael, you two take this section, and Jeremy and I will search here."

They all agree and split up to begin searching. Geoff and Michael’s area is full of narrow alleys and run-down shops. It's going to take a while to search it.

"I don't think he would have stuck around here," Michael says as they walk. Geoff thinks he's probably right. 

"Do you know where he might have gone?" he asks.

"I'm thinking," says Michael, frowning. 

They don't find any sign of Ray. No one in the shops they pass remembers seeing him. The others don't have much more success and after a couple of hours, Geoff sends them home. He, Michael and Jack drive around for a while, checking places Michael directs them to. Ray isn't at any of them.

They get hungry and stop by a Burger King drive-through before continuing to search, but it's getting late, and dark, and cold, and there's no sign of Ray. None at all. Geoff hesitates to suggest giving up for the night - he's pretty sure it will set Michael off -but they'll have to stop eventually.

"We should head home," he says. It's almost ten o'clock. "Ray might go back there. We should be there, in case he does."

Geoff knows Jack and Michael are just as tired and discouraged as he is when his suggestion is met not with protests, but with silence. 

"He left all his stuff there," Michael says after a minute. "He'll come back for his stuff, won't he?"

"Of course he will," says Jack, with a confidence that sounds insincere to Geoff’s ears. Geoff can't really think of anything Ray values that much, except for Michael. And Michael's been calling him every thirty minutes or so, only to be ignored. Poor kid.

"Let's head back. If he doesn't come back, we can keep looking tomorrow, but we need to rest," says Jack. They head home.

Geoff doesn't think he was really expecting Ray to be there when they got back, but somehow he's still crushingly disappointed when he isn't. 

"We all need to get some sleep," he says. "Try not to worry, Michael, okay?"

Michael gives him a look like he thinks Jack is very stupid, which Geoff supposes is fair. Probably none of them are going to get very much sleep tonight.

***

Michael wasn't really expecting to fall asleep, so it takes him by surprise when he wakes up. He looks over at Ray's bed like there's some reason to hope it might not be empty. It is, though, and waking up like that... it makes him feel shitty in a way which is somehow worse than anything he'd felt yesterday. As though it's real, now. Last night he could pretend that Ray was just out somewhere, for a while, but he'd be back. And now it's morning and he's still gone, and the closet is full of the clothes Jack and Geoff bought him which he'd left behind.

Michael doesn't much feel like staying in the bedroom after that, so he gets up and shuffles to the bathroom, and then to the living room. Jack is sitting in the corner of the couch, kind of huddled over with his head on a cushion, snoring lightly. It doesn't look very comfortable. Michael wonders if he's been sitting there all night, waiting just in case Ray comes back.

He's not very hungry, and if he starts clattering around in the kitchen he'll probably wake Jack up, so instead Michael quietly opens the front door and looks out. It's a beautiful morning, early enough that the air is still crisp and there's not a cloud in the sky. There's a newspaper sitting on the lawn, and by the driveway, leaning up against the mailbox, is Ray. 

Michael blinks. He wants to rub his eyes like a cartoon character, but he doesn't. He pulls himself together and marches up to Ray. 

"What the fuck are you doing, asshole?"

Ray twitches and blinks up at him. He must have been drowsing, Michael figures. "Oh, hey."

"Oh hey," Michael repeats mockingly. "Is that what you've got to say for yourself? Do you have any clue how worried we've been? What the fuck is your problem?"

Ray looks down at his feet and shrugs. Everything he's doing is just pissing Michael off more. He'd like to grab Ray, to shake him or punch him, anything to make him feel as upset as Michael does right now, but he's not going to do that. He won't let himself do that. He takes a step away and looks out over the street, taking in a few deep breaths through his nose. He doesn't feel any less angry, but he does feel a bit less tempted to haul off and sock Ray in the jaw.

"I'm sorry," says Ray.

"Fuck you," says Michael. Yeah, he's still pissed.

"Are... are Geoff and Jack really pissed?" Ray asks.

"Why don't you come in the house and find out?" Michael snaps.

Ray drags himself to his feet, and there's an awkward moment where neither of them is willing to make the first move to the front door. Michael's not sure what Ray's issue is, but he's not willing to turn his back on Ray right now, just in case. He gives Ray a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, and Ray sighs and walks up to the house.

Jack is still sleeping on the couch. Ray looks at him like he's a sleeping lion or something. Michaels shuts the door firmly, not enough to be a slam, but enough to make some noise. Jack makes a weird snorting sound and wakes up.

"Hey," he mumbles, rubbing his face, and then he notices Ray. "Ray! You're... you're back."

"Hey," Ray replies, speaking more to the floor than Jack. 

"Thank god. We were so worried." Jack stands up and starts to make his way over to Ray, but stops as though he's worried he'll frighten Ray off like a startled deer. "Are you okay? You're not hurt?"

"I'm fine," says Ray. 

"I've got to wake Geoff up and tell him you're back." Jack takes a step towards their bedroom, then stops and looks back at Ray. "Just... stay put, okay? Don't go anywhere?"

"I'm not going to disappear," Ray says. He sounds kind of confused, as though he didn't do exactly that yesterday. Michael grits his teeth. 

Jack vanishes into his bedroom and reappears a minute later with Geoff in tow. He looks awful, like he hasn't slept at all, and unlike Jack he doesn't hesitate at all before jogging right up to Ray. He reaches out like he wants to give Ray a hug, only stopping when Ray takes a step back, one hand up as though to fend Geoff off.

"Ray," says Geoff. His voice is deep and scratchy from lack of sleep. "God, you scared the shit out of us."

"Sorry," says Ray. "I guess I fucked up." He's fidgeting with the hem of his shirt nervously, his gaze darting from Geoff to Jack. 

"I just... look, we can talk about that later," says Geoff. Michael swallows a protest. Later? He's pissed off _now_. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? You must be hungry, we should... let's make some breakfast."

They're in the kitchen, Geoff frying bacon and Jack mixing pancake batter, when Ray says, "Aren't you guys mad?"

"No," says Jack instantly. "No one's angry."

Oh, fuck this bullshit. "I am," says Michael. "What the fuck, Ray?"

Ray hunches down into his sweater. Geoff and Jack exchange glances and it's obvious that neither of them knows what to say.

"I wasn't sure you'd want me to come back," Ray whispers. "So I don't... I can go, but..."

"Don't you fucking dare!" Michael shouts, getting up from his chair in case he needs to tackle Ray to the ground. 

"Michael, calm down," says Geoff. "Ray, we don't want you to leave." He pauses, forehead wrinkled with concentration. The bacon in the pan pops loudly, and Geoff takes a moment to flip the rashers before turning to face Ray again. "Okay," he says. "Maybe I am kind of mad, but that doesn't mean I've decided you can't stay here anymore. Right, Jack?"

"Yeah," says Jack. "We're... well, I know I'm kind of confused. We really want you to feel at home here, and like... you can talk to us if there's a problem. I don't understand why you felt like you had to run off like that."

Ray kind of groans, and Michael feels a small, ugly spark of glee because it's Ray's own stupid fault. Geoff even said they would talk about it later, and Ray was the one who couldn't wait that long.

"Bacon's ready," says Geoff. "Here, grab a plate."

They sit around the table eating bacon in awkward silence. After a couple of minutes Jack walks over with a stack of pancakes. It would be an awesome breakfast if everything wasn't so weird.

"Aren't you guys mad about Brad?" Ray asks. Instead of answering, Geoff puts a hand over his mouth and looks at Jack. 

"Why don't you tell us why you think we should be angry about that?" Jack suggests.

"I wasted... all that money," Ray says. Geoff makes an exasperated noise, and Jack quells him with a wave of his hand.

"Okay... we've talked about the money thing before, so let's leave that for now. If you were worried about it, why didn't you tell us you didn't like him?"

"You guys wanted me to see someone."

"We could have found someone else."

""But that would have been a hassle."

Even Jack looks kind of frustrated by that. He pauses for a minute and rubs one eyebrow. "So... what were you planning to do?" Jack asks. "Just pretend everything was fine and hope no one noticed?"

"I guess?" says Ray. "I figured... eventually you'd decide I'd had enough therapy and stop, and it'd be fine. I'm fine."

Everyone is quiet for a couple of minutes after that, as though a lie so enormous needs time to be properly absorbed. 

"Then why did you run off?" Jack asks. "Since you're fine?"

Ray shrugs.

"Why did you come back?" Jack tries.

Ray glances up at him, finishing his last bite of pancakes. "Um, I got a call," he says, taking out his cell phone. "From Gamestop? About my job application?"

"That's... really good," says Geoff. He sounds like he's just been told his puppy was run over. Michael gets it. They've all called Ray at least a dozen times, left heaps of messages, and the thing that convinced Ray to come home was a fucking job interview?

"They want me to come in on Thursday afternoon," says Ray. "But I... I mean, I can get myself there and everything, you don't have to..."

"Of course we'll take you," says Jack. "And we can sort out something for you to wear. That's really exciting news, Ray." Jack actually sounds like he kind of means it.

"I thought... if I get the job, I can pay you back for all this stuff, and maybe for those therapy appointments too, because..."

"No, Ray. Come on, this has to stop." 

Jack cut Geoff off with a look, and said, "We can figure that out later."

"No," Geoff insisted. "No, Jack. I can't... Ray, you don't have to pay us back for anything. We never expected that, that's not why we did any of this. Why... why is this so important to you? You don't want to owe us? You don't owe us anything, there's no strings attached."

"Okay, okay," Ray said, but he was kind of glowering and Michael could tell he didn't believe what Geoff was saying.

"How about a compromise," Jack suggested. "Ray, can you agree to go to five sessions with this other psychologist? Just five, and then if you want to stop going you can." Jack paused. Ray's only response was a shrug. "But you'd need to actually talk to her," Jack added, "and if you don't like her we'd want you to tell us, so we could find someone else."

Once again, Ray only shrugged in reply, but this time Jack was stubborn and waited him out. "Fine," Ray said at last. "I can do that."

"Thanks," said Jack. "And if - if - you get this job, we can talk about you putting something towards board or whatever... we'll figure that out. But that's not something we'd expect of you, it's only something you can do if you want to."

"Cool," Ray said, looking down at his plate. Michael didn't know what else they could say; it was like nothing they told Ray was getting through.

Once breakfast is over and the dishes cleared away, Michael wanders off to the bedroom, feeling mildly annoyed when Ray follows him. He kind of wants some time to himself to figure out if he's still angry or not, but Ray's not giving him that, apparently. Well, that's fine.

"I'm sorry about... everything," Ray says, standing awkwardly in the doorway like he thinks Michael might decide to kick him out, which is honestly kind of tempting.

"Oh, yeah?" says Michael. "Just everything, huh? What, you trying to make sure you don't leave anything out?"

Ray sighs. "I'm sorry I ran off and didn't answer your calls. It was shitty of me to leave you behind like that."

"Yeah, so? You think I give a shit that you left me behind?"

"Well..." Ray looks kind of hurt by that. Michael feels a nasty spike of pleasure. "I guess not. It's not like you need me anymore, and you're making better friends than me anyway."

"What the fuck? Like who?"

"Well, you're always hanging out with Jeremy and Gavin now. And what about that girl you like from class? Shantelle?"

"I don't like her!" Michael snaps. Ray gives him a level look. "Well, okay, maybe I do," he admits. "But..." He could easily make fun of Ray for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but that seems kind of shitty. If Ray was hanging out with a girl, flirting with her and stuff, Michael knows he’d hate it. Is that weird? It’s probably a little weird. He puts the scenario out of his mind. It’s not important right now.

"You fucking idiot, you seriously think that now I've made some other friends I don't want you around anymore?"

"But you just said..."

"Yeah, well I didn't think you'd take me seriously, you dipshit! I don't get it, I know you don't really trust Geoff and Jack but I didn't realise you thought I was bullshitting about being your friend this whole time. What the fuck's the matter with you, you just assume everyone's always lying?"

"What the fuck's the matter with you?" Ray snaps. "How can you just believe that everyone always means everything they say?"

"What do you think Jack and Geoff are hiding? You think they're going to turn around and say, 'actually, we changed our minds, cough up the dosh'? Why are you so keen to get in first?"

Ray shrugged, and Michael realises his theory doesn’t really make sense. "No, that's not it, holy fuck. You think they're going to decide you have to put out after all, don't you?"

"No, I don't," Ray says, but he's lying, Michael's sure of it.

"Bullshit. Come on, you know they're not like that!"

"Anyone can be like that!" Ray yells, the intensity taking Michael by surprise. "Just because it's never happened to you, you think they walk around with a sign over their head? You're safe, cause you'll see them coming? You're not safe, you're just lucky!"

There's nothing Michael can say to that. He steps back, a lump forming in his throat, not quite able to look Ray in the eye. Is he right? That people really are that shitty and Michael's just never noticed? He doesn't think he can stand it if that's true.

Eventually, he says the only thing he can think of. "If anyone tries anything, you tell me and I'll cut their dick off."

Ray lets out a startled laugh. "Yeah, you got it, whatever."

***

By the time Claire calls Geoff and tells him that the social worker had made a recommendation that he and Jack be awarded guardianship, he's completely forgotten that it was happening. 

"That's great," he says. "That's good news."

He's kind of distracted, sitting in Gamestop's parking lot waiting for Ray to finish his job interview, but this is important. He makes himself focus.

"What happens from here?" he asks.

"I'm putting a petition together to present to the court," says Claire. "That'll take about a week. We've got your statements, so there's nothing else for you to do for the time being, but there'll probably be a hearing. I'll let you know."

"Thanks," says Geoff. "Seriously, thanks. It's helped a lot to know you're taking care of this for us."

It's not long after Geoff ends the call when Ray emerges from the Gamestop, almost skipping, which looks kind of funny in the dark pants and blue tie Geoff bought for him. 

"Well?" Geoff asks as Ray gets into the car. "How did you go?" Not that he really needs to ask, the way Ray is grinning.

"I got the job!" says Ray. "They want me to come in for a shift on Thursday, they said I'll probably working about twenty hours a week." Ray takes his phone out and starts fiddling with it. "That means I can pay nearly $200 a week towards rent and stuff."

"Whoa, okay, slow down," says Geoff. Fuck, he wasn't expecting Ray to jump into that straight away. Can't just take a break and appreciate his success, this kid.

"What? We agreed that I could..."

"Sure, but a couple of things, Ray. First of all, that wage your thinking of is before tax, you probably won't be taking quite that much home. Second, $200 a week seems a bit steep for a room in a house which you have to share with someone else. And there will probably be weeks where you don't work twenty hours... sure, sometimes you might work more, but... you should keep some of that money for yourself, too. Start saving, or buy yourself things you want instead of having to rely on me and Jack all the time. We won't take everything you earn, that's not negotiable."

Ray grumbled a bit under his breath, but he doesn’t argue, thank god.

"Well," says Geoff, hoping to change the subject, "I think we should celebrate, don't you?"

"Sure?" Ray says warily.

Grinning perhaps a little maniacally, Geoff makes a right turn and finds a park in front of the cake shop they use whenever someone at Rooster Teeth has a birthday. "What do you think, chocolate? Red velvet? Angel's food?"

"Uh..."

"They'll probably let you taste test a couple, but not everything. Learned that from experience. Come on."

Ray hesitantly follows Geoff into the store and Geoff points out a few of their best-selling options. Anticipating that Ray will find some way to make a big deal out of this, Geoff asks him if he knows what kind of cake Michael would prefer.

"Not really," says Ray. Damn. But his question has done the trick anyway, and Ray gets absorbed in trying to figure out what sort of cake Michael will enjoy. Geoff pats himself on the back for a job well done.

They leave the store with a large chocolate sponge and a little cardboard decoration Geoff picked up while Ray wasn't looking. It says 'Congratulations' against a background of fireworks, nothing too special but Geoff is going to make sure Ray knows he and Jack are proud of him if it kills him.

Michael, as it turns out, _loves _ chocolate cake. He asks for a second piece because, he says, he's so happy for Ray that one slice isn't enough. Geoff snorts and cuts everyone a second slice.

Looking around the table, Geoff lets himself hope that everything's going to work out.


	12. Chapter 12

The new therapist is a woman, older than Ray's mother. Her name is 'Dr Coleman, or Laura if you prefer.' She looks kind of stern, even when she smiles. She doesn't look like she wants to be Ray's friend.

Ray would kind of like to refuse to talk to her, too, but he promised the guys. More importantly, if he doesn't talk to her they'll know.

"So, what brings you here today, Ray?"

Talking to her would be a lot easier if she would ask easier questions. Ray ends up giving the only answer which makes sense. "Jack and Geoff are making me come."

Dr Coleman looks at him over her notepad, her expression not shifting at all. "And who are Jack and Geoff?"

Ray is stumped by that, because she just met Jack and she spoke to Geoff on the phone when he made the appointment. She must realise what he's thinking, because she says, "I mean, who are they to you? What is your relationship to them?"

"None," says Ray, and then he clarifies, "Like, we're not related or anything. They're just two guys who're giving Michael and me a place to stay. Michael's my friend," he adds before Dr Coleman can ask.

She nods, making a few notes on her notepad. "So how do you know them?" she asks.

"Well..." Ray tells her about it, being as brief on detail as he can get away with. He thinks she raises an eyebrow when he mentions getting stabbed, but it's hard to tell. She's hard to read.

""Okay," she says when Ray's done. "So you haven't known Jack and Geoff for very long, but they helped you and Michael, and now you're living with them."

"Yeah."

Dr Coleman nods, her eyes meeting Ray's for a few seconds. "What's that like for you?"

"What?" says Ray, because it seems like such a weird question. "It's fine."

"It's fine?"

"Yeah." She seems to want more, so Ray continues, "It's great. We each have our own bed and there's always food..." Fuck, he needs to rescue this before she starts thinking he's Oliver Twist or something. "They let us play GTA whenever we want." Nailed it.

"That's good," says Dr Coleman, a tiny smile on her face. "So you like living there?"

"No," says Ray, and it's only when she looks at him that he realises what he said. "I mean, yeah, it's great. Beats being on the street."

Dr Coleman says nothing, just waits. Fuck, she's just going to wait him out because he already slipped up and now she knows something and she doesn't have to say anything because he knows that she knows. "It's good. It's just hard, sometimes. But it's good."

"Okay. So sometimes it's hard."

"I guess."

"Harder than living on the streets?"

"I dunno." Ray can't quite make himself look at her, not because he doesn't have an answer but because he doesn't want to share it. "I knew how that worked, that's all."

"It was familiar?"

"Yeah."

"What things do you find hard about living with Jack and Geoff?"

"Figuring out what they want," Ray says without needing to think too much about it.

"Okay." Dr Coleman is quiet for a minute. Her pen scratches across the notepad. "And you need to know what they want because?"

It takes Ray a minute to come up with an answer, because it seems so obvious to him that he's never bothered to question it. "No one does anything for nothing," he says. "If they're helping us it's because they want something from us, and I need to know what... I need to know if it's something I'm willing to do or not."

Dr Coleman nods quietly. Ray waits for her to respond. He realises he's expecting her to say he's wrong, that he shouldn't be so suspicious. It takes him by surprise when instead, she says, "You're right, of course."

"Huh?" says Ray. 

"Everyone does things for a reason," Dr Coleman elaborates. "And it's only sensible that you want assurance that their reasons are good ones. If their reasons are bad, you're very vulnerable." She pauses, but Ray keeps quiet, not sure of what to say. "What is it that worries you?" she asks. "When you say you want to know what they want, you have something in mind, don't you?"

"I thought they wanted, uh, sex," Ray admits. It feels fucking weird to talk about this with a woman who looks like the stern librarian in a sitcom, but she doesn't seem shocked or even surprised, just nods like she was expecting it. "But I... asked them, and they don't "

Dr Coleman doesn't ask him to elaborate on that, which is good because Ray wouldn't. "And now?" she asks.

It's hard to put his fears into concrete terms. So far Ray has studiously avoided doing just that. "What if they want Michael instead?" he asks. "Michael trusts them, he wouldn't... or what if they..." He trails off, not sure how to put into words the fear he has that the reason Geoff refused his offer of willing sex is because he thinks he'd enjoy it more if Ray _wasn't_ willing. If he was afraid, or in pain, or...

He doesn't really think Geoff is like that, not now. But it's like he said to Michael - you can never really know. Not for sure.

"What would you do if one of those things you're afraid of happened?" Dr Coleman asks. 

"I don't know. I guess we'd have to run away again, but I don't know if I could keep them from hurting Michael first."

"You wouldn't call the police?"

"Uh." The idea has honestly never occurred to Ray. "I dunno. I don't really trust the police, I guess. All Jack and Geoff would need to do is make up some lie... why would they believe us over them?"

"Mm," says Dr Coleman. Ray waits for her to tell him he should trust the police, but instead she says, "So you have this conflict between needing their help, and needing to protect yourself. How are you managing that?"

"Badly?"

To Ray's shock, the doctor laughs slightly. "What are you doing to cope?"

"Oh. I'm trying not to take more from them than I have to, but then we keep arguing about it."

"You're trying to avoid being in their debt?"

"Yeah."

"And how do you think the situation looks, from Jack and Geoff's point of view?"

"I dunno." Ray stops to think about it for a minute. "It probably doesn't make any sense to them. I've tried to explain it, but they don't get it, and we keep having the same arguments."

"They're not listening to your concerns?"

"That's not it," Ray admits reluctantly. "I think they think I'll stop being suspicious of them eventually, but I can't. Once you let your guard down, that's when they get you."

Dr Coleman nods thoughtfully and turns to a new page in her notepad. She quickly draws up a table with two columns, and says, "Let's put together the evidence, shall we?"

"Uh..."

"One column for evidence that Geoff and Jack are trustworthy, and one for evidence that they're not," she says, labelling the columns accordingly. "To start with, I suppose the fact that they haven't done anything improper up to this point suggests that they're trustworthy."

"I guess," Ray agrees, as Dr Coleman starts writing in the left column.

"Can you think of anything else for this column?"

"Well... that one time I offered, you know, they said no."

She nods and writes that down, showing no sign that she's noticed Ray's discomfort. Then she pauses expectantly, and Ray scrambles to think of something else.

"They, uh... they helped me find a job. They said it was so I could pay for some stuff myself instead of relying on them for everything, but... it means it'll be easier to leave, if we need to. They probably wouldn't have done that, if they were trying to, I dunno, trap me or whatever."

Dr Coleman nods, her pen scribbling furiously across the page. "That's a good point," she says. "Now, what about the other column? Can you think of anything that suggests they're not trustworthy?"

Ray hesitates, a little thrown because he'd just warmed up to the idea of filling up the first column. If Dr Coleman had asked he thinks he'd have been able to come up with a few more items. But, okay... evidence for the untrustworthy side.

"I just don't... I don't understand what they're getting out of all this," he says. It seems like a rather vague point to make, but Dr Coleman writes it down anyway. She waits a minute or so after that to see if Ray has anything else to add, but he can’t think of anything.

"You can keep adding to this at home," she says, ripping the page off the notepad. "When you come back next week, we can talk about what you've added."

"Okay," Ray says, accepting the page. "Sounds good."

***

After his embarrassing failure with the video, Michael had had a lot of trouble coming up with new project ideas for class. He doesn’t want to work hard on something else only to discover that he sucks at that too. After hours of equivocating, Caiti had eventually snapped and said that he should try learning to do something he didn't know anything about, which was how he'd wound up enrolled in a semester of guitar lessons.

Actually Michael is still a little confused about how it had actually happened, except he’s sure it had involved some kind of conspiracy between Caiti and Geoff. His guitar teacher is a college student with long hair who wears his pants too short, and the lessons mostly seemed to consist of him listening to Michael play and then saying it’s rad.

Caiti was the one who had suggested he film himself playing each day. That’s what he’s doing this evening when Geoff knocks on his door.

"Yeah?" Michael calls, pausing the camera.

"Can I come in?" Geoff sounds serious. Michael gets up and opens the door.

Geoff walks into the room and sits on Michael's bed. He seems nervous, tapping his fingers together, and that makes Michael nervous.

"What is it?"

"You know that one of the things the court had to do before awarding us custody was try to contact your families?"

Michael had known that. He hasn’t given it that much thought. His family kicked him out, it's not like they’re going to make him come back. Maybe Ray's family want him back? Michael’s not about to let that happen. 

"What about it?" he asks, already mentally preparing for a fight. 

"Your parents responded to the court's letter. They said they, uh, they want to talk to you."

"What?" Michael asks. He's pretty sure he heard that wrong.

"Your parents-"

"They told me I had to leave!"

"Well... they're saying they regret it, and that...they want you to come home."

Michael doesn't know what to do with that information. It's the sort of thing which should make him happy, he thinks, but he's only just starting to get used to living with Jack and Geoff. He does what he tends to do when he doesn't know what to do, and gets angry.

Michael stands up and turns to face Geoff with his fists clenched. "Why are they saying this now?"

"I don't know."

"Well what do they mean they regret it, are they talking about kicking me out or everything else?"

"I don't know. I haven't spoken to them, Michael, I just got a call from Claire. She said they've asked to meet with you."

Michael shrugs. "Whatever. Sure, why not." He digs his toes into the carpet. "Can they make me go home with them?"

Geoff sighs. "I'm not sure, Michael. I've organised for us to meet with Claire tomorrow so that we can ask her about that kind of thing."

Michael nods, and then another thought occurs to him. "Do _you_ think I should go home with them?" Geoff and Jack never really volunteered for any of this. Sure, they were happy enough to take Michael and Ray in rather than leaving them on the street, but now that there’s an alternative...

"No," Geoff says at once. "Not unless you want to, and your dad has got his act together. I... it's probably a bit selfish of me, but I want you to stay here."

"Cool," says Michael. 

The time until their meeting with Claire passes excruciatingly slowly. Michael tells Ray what happened, and he scoffs.

"Fuck them. It's easy for them to turn up now and act like they're sorry."

When Ray asks why Michael agreed to meet with them, Michael says, "I want to figure out if they're going to try to make the court send me home."

"Shit, they better fucking not. I'm sorry, man."

Of course, Michael had only given Ray half the answer. The full truth is... he wants to see them. He misses his mother, and he’s worried about his sister. He even wants to see his dad... he wants to hear what he has to say, see if he really is sorry about things. It’s the sort of thing Michael would normally be able to confide to Ray, but when he considers doing that he notices Ray's tense shoulders and set expression. They would have tried to contact his mother as well. Maybe they hadn't been able to find her, or maybe she just hadn't responded. Either way, Ray doesn’t have a family reunion on the horizon. Michael can tell there’s no way Ray will ever admit he doesn’t think that’s a good thing, so he lets the subject drop.

Geoff takes him to Claire's office the next day, while Jack and Ray stay back at Rooster Teeth to keep working. Claire greets them and offers them coffee and meanders her way through an unbearable parade of pleasantries, until she finally gets to the point.

"What's going to happen?" Michael asks.

"That depends on what you want," says Claire. "Do you want to go home with them?"

"No," Michael answers without really thinking about it. He'd never expected it to be an option. It still doesn’t feel like an option.

"Well, then." Claire's expression becomes more focused. "I need to warn you that this will be a challenge. You have no familial relationship and the way Jack and Geoff entered your life was... unconventional. On the other hand, considering the fact that your parents asked you to leave and the abuse, I do think Jack and Geoff have a chance at being awarded custody. Even if not, the court is more likely to place you with other relatives than back with your parents."

Michael gives a slow nod. That might be okay. He doesn’t know his grandparents well, but they’re not bad people. "If I tell them I want to stay here, though, doesn't that count for anything?"

"Of course. But it's best to be prepared for all outcomes."

Michael doesn’t like the sound of that so much. He looks up at Geoff to see what he thinks of all this. 

"Do you really think we have a shot, even though we're not Michael's parents?" Geoff asks.

"A shot, yes," says Claire. She glances at Michael from the corner of her eye, then seems to come to the same conclusion Geoff had - that Michael will be able to tell if she tries to sugarcoat the situation for him, and won’t appreciate it. "I won't pretend it's not going to be difficult. It's probably time to start collecting every piece of documentation you can get your hands on. Reports from Michael's teachers about how his studies are going. A statement from his psychologist. The results from his last medical checkup. You think you could get a statement from the police officers you saw when Ray was stabbed?"

"I can definitely try," Geoff says, sounding determined. 

"Good. In the meantime, we've got this meeting to organise with Michael's parents. Something like that needs to be held on neutral ground - not at your house or theirs, and somewhere it can be supervised. I've suggested it take place here in our conference room."

"The - the big conference room? The one which looks like something out of The West Wing?" Geoff asks.

"That's the one."

"That's clever."

Michael doesn’t give a shit if it’s clever or not. He just wants to get the meeting out of the way. Claire suggests 9 am next Tuesday, and Michael agrees. It's too far away, too much of a wait. Too much time to imagine how it will go, to imagine the good outcomes... and the bad ones.

***

Ray is always quiet, of course, but this week he's been quieter than usual. It has Jack worried. He's been keeping to himself a lot. When Jack invites him to play a game or Michael wants to show him something on YouTube, Ray makes an excuse, says he's busy with homework. Jack has his doubts. No teenager does that much homework. Ray definitely doesn't. 

Still, Jack wanders down to the boys' bedroom, where Ray's sequestered himself, claiming to be working on a project. He knocks at the door and Ray calls, "Yeah?"

He opens the door.

Ray is sitting on his bed. He's got a notepad in front of him and a pen in one hand, but he hasn't written anything.

"Hey," says Jack. 

"What?"

“Just wanted to check how you’re holding up.”

“Yeah. I’m good,” says Ray. He sounds lost in thought. “It’s payday tomorrow,” he says, perking up a little bit.

“Is it? Your first paycheck, congrats.” Ray has worked three shifts at Gamestop, and while his enthusiasm for the whole thing has diminished considerably since his first shift, he seems pretty happy to have a job. “Have you got plans for what you’re going to spend it on?”

It took a lot of negotiation, but they eventually agreed that Ray would pay $50 a week board, which Geoff is going to quietly stick into a savings account for the future if Ray decides to go to college or something. That should leave Ray a good bit over to spend or save for whatever he likes.

“I dunno,” says Ray, shrugging. He seems pretty distracted. 

“Something on your mind?”

“Nah.”

Jack hesitates. He doesn’t want to push too hard, but if he doesn’t push a little he won’t get anywhere. “You sure? We haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“I’ve been busy,” Ray says, as though he doesn’t have a blank notebook sitting right on his lap. “Anyway, you guys are all busy too, with Michael’s stuff.”

He doesn’t even sound that annoyed about it, just resigned.

“Have you and Michael talked about what’s happening?” Jack wonders.

“Nah, he’d rather text with Shantelle about it.” Huh. Now Ray sounds kind of ticked off.

Jack sits down on the edge of the bed. “Does that bother you?”

“Of course not, why the fuck would it?” 

Jack doesn’t bother responding to that. After a second, Ray sighs and closes his notebook. He stares at the wall.

“How did the court get my Mom’s address to send her that letter?”

“Uh… they’d have had to use public records, like the white pages maybe.”

“The what pages?” Sometimes these kids make Jack feel so fucking old. “So the address could have been out of date.”

“It could, yeah.” Jack waits to see if Ray is going to follow up on that. When he doesn’t, Jack asks gently, “Do you want to try to track her down?”

“Jesus, no. You’ve seen what Michael’s dealing with, right? I don’t need that bullshit.”

Michael is pretty stressed out about the situation with his parents, but Jack still doesn’t think he would choose not to have his reunion with them. 

“She probably just tossed the letter in the trash anyway,” Ray mutters. 

“Ray…” Jack hesitates, because he’s not sure if Ray meant him to hear that or if he wants Jack to respond. Eventually he decides, fuck it. “I don’t know if your mom got that letter or no, or what’s going on with her, but Geoff and I will always be in your corner no matter what.”

“Oh, fuck me,” Ray murmurs.

“I know we’re not your mom, but we… I… you’re part of the family. Like…” Jack wonders whether he can tell Ray that he thinks of him like a son without blubbering like an infant. The outlook is not good.

“Please stop, you’re going to make me puke.”

Jack chuckles and gives in to the urge to ruffle Ray’s hair. Ray grumbles, “Fuck off!” and bats his hand away, but he’s kind of laughing a little bit at the same time.

“Now, come on. In this family we play Mario Party together like a family. And I think it would really help to distract Michael from everything.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. Jesus Christ.”

***

Ray and his mother moved from one apartment to another all through his childhood. They moved nearly every year. There’s no reason to think she’d still be living in the same apartment they were renting when Ray ran away. Not unless she wanted to make sure Ray knew where to find…

There’s no reason to think she’s still there. And Ray knows that’s where they sent the letter, because when he was twelve she’d had a job for a little while, an actual job working for a company instead of selling makeup on Craigslist. And that had meant that she’d had to file taxes and update her address everywhere, and she’d complained for weeks about what a pain in the ass the whole thing was. As far as Ray knew, that was the first time in years that she’d bothered to tell the government where she lived.

But that’s good news, isn’t it? Makes things a whole lot less complicated. Ray doesn’t want his mother deciding that he should come home, like Michael’s parents have done. Jack and Geoff are trying to make sure Michael can stay with them for some reason, they don’t need to deal with Ray going through the same shit as well. He causes them enough stress.

Ray reads over the last paragraph he wrote. He’s not happy with it, but he can’t figure out how to improve it. Caiti will probably come help him in a second, but right now she’s working on something with Bailey. Normally, at a time like this, Ray would complain to Michael about his assignment, but Michael’s sitting next to Shantelle on the other side of the table. They’re supposedly working together, but Ray isn’t falling for that shit. Shantelle is flirting with Michael and Michael is lapping it up. Ray hasn’t seen him write a single word in the last ten minutes, and he’s been watching. He would have seen - he’s been watching.

Ray turns his head back towards his own work as though he can force himself to pay attention, to stop watching Michael. He draws a stick figure in the margin of the page, and then because he's still feeling kind of ticked off, he adds a speech bubble which says, ‘I'm Michael and I'm a little bitch.’

He actually does feel a bit better after that. Then Caiti appears next to him and says, “Hi Ray, how are you getting on?”

“Badly,” Ray admits. He shows Caiti what he's done, wishing that he hadn't made that drawing of Michael after all. Caiti doesn't mention it, though, just reads the few paragraphs of book report he's written and says, “Hm.”

“It's okay, I have that effect on most people,” Ray says. Caiti laughs and points out a few spelling mistakes, then asks some questions about the structure of his report. Ray had previously not realised that book reports needed a structure or that he would need to put any thought into it, but by the time Caiti is done he has some idea of what to do.

She leaves to go help one of the others, and Ray really should get back to work now while he remembers what she said, but instead he slips his phone out of his pocket and opens a web browser. He brings up craigslist and hesitates.

Does he want to do this? Or more accurately, why does he want to do this? His mother didn't respond to the letter, so he's home free. No one's going to turn up and make him go back to her and fucking Bill, which is supposed to be a good thing and exactly what he was hoping for. Look at Michael, having to deal with his parents turning up and acting like they missed him and they're sorry for being shitty and they want him to come home. 

Ray searches his mother's name and finds her profile. Not much has changed, by the look of it. She's got a few new products and she's raised her prices a bit. His finger hovers over the button to send her a private message, and then he shakes his head, closing the browser and stuffing the phone back in his pocket.

No, fuck this. He’s being a fucking idiot. He got a lucky break, and only an idiot would fuck that up. He needs to forget about his mom and get on with his life, since he’s miraculously got a chance to do something with it. He just has to put her out of his mind.

In his pocket, his phone has the weight of an anvil.

Geoff turns up at three to take Ray to his therapy appointment. He’s been trying to fill out his chart like Dr Coleman suggested, figuring out a list of evidence for and against Geoff and Jack being decent people. He’s not very happy with how it’s coming along, though. He’s not looking forward to showing her.

Dr Coleman greets Ray and makes him go through the entire week’s events, the new developments with Michael and how his first shift at his job went and fuck knows what else. She asks if there’s anything he wants to talk about today, and Ray mumbles something about his chart.

“Oh, good,” Dr Coleman says. “Do you want to show me?”

Ray hands the list over with a sigh, and deliberately doesn’t look at Dr Coleman while she reads it. After about four days of not making progress on it, Ray had started adding any stupid nonsense he could think of. ‘Jack likes apple flavoured skittles and so do I’, and ‘Geoff can quote entire episodes of Community’ wound up in the ‘trust’ column. The ‘don’t trust’ column was full of a bunch of shit like ‘Nobody’s trustworthy’ (he’d underlined ‘nobody’ several times), and ‘trusting them is too risky’. 

“Hm,” she says once she’s done. “So what do you think about your list?”

Ray stares at the page, at the line where he’d written ‘If one person fucks you over, they’re an asshole, but if everyone fucks you over maybe it’s just not worth the effort’.

“A lot of it is just.. Irrelevant. I got stuck.”

“Mm,” says Dr Coleman. “Not all of it is, though, is it?”

“No, but the other stuff… it’s all stuff to do with me, nothing to do with them,” Ray said.

“Good,” Dr Coleman says. “That’s very insightful.”

“That’s not what I was meant to do though, is it? I thought you wanted me to observe their, like, behaviour or whatever.”

“I can see you’ve done some of that,” Dr Coleman says. “And you’ve also observed your own thinking patterns, which can be a lot more challenging. Now, you’ve made some comments here, like ‘I have a sign on my back which says “sucker”’. Ray groans and covers his face. “Is this a thought you’ve had often in the past?”

“A bit,” Ray mutters.

“Would you say that this thought describes your subjective experience, or is it an objective view of reality?”

“No, it’s subjective, obviously. I’m not so far gone that I don’t… I mean, usually I don’t feel like that’s literally true.” 

“No,” Dr Coleman agrees. She flips to a new page in her notepad and draws a line across the middle of it. “You can think of life like this line. People will have a range of experiences, some positive and some negative.” She marks each end of the line accordingly. “But when someone has a disproportionate number of experiences from the negative end of the spectrum, they start looking for a way to make sense of it.” Dr Coleman lowers her pen and looks at Ray. “So telling yourself something like, everyone will betray me, is a way of trying to understand why you’ve been hurt. One person might conclude that other people are inherently cruel. Someone else might conclude that they were deserving of being hurt. Some people believe that God is testing them, or they’re being punished. Whatever it is, it lets that person believe that there’s a reason for what they’ve been through.”

She looks back down at the notepad and circles one section of the line, towards the ‘negative’ end. “It also shapes the way you approach future events. If most of your experiences fall within this circle, then that’s what you’ll expect to see. Forming new thought patterns can help you be more open to positive experiences in the future.”

“How do I do that?” Ray asks doubtfully.

“Well, that’s where the behavioural part of cognitive behavioural therapy comes into it,” says Dr Coleman. Underneath the diagram she’d drawn, she writes the numbers one to ten. “At the moment, would you say that you trust Jack and Geoff a little bit?”

“I guess.”

“What are some ways that you might show that?”

“Uhhh.” Ray scrambles to come up with something. “I could… ask them for help with some of my homework.” They offer to do that all the time anyway, and Michael always takes them up on it. It never seems to cause much of an issue.

“Okay, and on a scale of one to ten, how comfortable would you be doing that?”

“Uh, one, I guess?” says Ray. “I don’t think it will be a problem.”

“Great,” says Dr Coleman, writing it down. “Can you think of something a little more difficult for number 2?”

“Um, they’re always offering to buy stuff for us, and I always say no, but maybe I could accept something. I mean, if it’s not too big.”

Dr Coleman nods and writes it down as ‘Accepting a gift’. Then she moves her pen down to the bottom of the page. “What is something that you would find more difficult?”

“Um, letting Jack give me a hug?” Ray suggests, half-joking.

“At ten?” Dr Coleman asks.

“Uh, no, no. At, like, six maybe?” Ray laughs a bit, but his mood has shifted to be much more serious. When Dr Coleman asks what he would put at number ten, Ray frowns and says, “Um… there’s some stuff I’m kind of scared to talk to them about. Or talk about at all. But sometimes I kind of wish I could tell… or maybe just that they already knew the really bad stuff? The worst stuff? So I wouldn’t have to worry about them finding out and reacting badly.”

Dr Coleman nods and writes that down. “That would require a significant show of trust from you.”

“Yeah.” Ray looks down at his hands, twisting together in his lap. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about that stuff with anyone.”

She smiles at him, just a gentle curve of her lips. “Don’t feel like it’s something you have to do. Just something it would be nice for you to be able to do.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“The whole point of this list,” Dr Coleman says, tapping the numbered list on her notepad, “is that you don’t have to start at ten. You can start here, at one or two, with something you’ve maybe done before, or could easily do but just haven’t. And once you’ve done that, maybe a few times, you’ll feel more confident and it will be easier to challenge those thought patterns you’ve learned. After that, you can move on to number three or four.”

“It’s like I’m practicing,” Ray says. “Practicing how to be a functional human being.”

Dr Coleman looks at him, unsmiling. “Don’t assume that people know how to be functional by default. Everyone has their issues, but some people choose to face them.” 

That sounds nice, Ray thinks. Like he’s doing something admirable, instead of just being a total fuckup.


	13. Chapter 13

Michael sits in the backseat of Geoff’s car, staring at the office block where Claire works. His family are already here; he can tell because he recognises the car parked a few spaces over. 

“Are you ready to go in?” Geoff asks.

“No,” says Michael, and then, “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

Geoff and Jack exchange a glance like they think Michael can’t see, and they get out of the car. Michael follows, and inside a receptionist leads them to the conference room even though Geoff knows the way.

From the hallway, Michael can only see Claire. The door blocks his view of anyone else who might be in the room. He’s acutely aware of Jack and Geoff, standing to either side of him. It seems like they’re waiting for him, but after a minute Geoff must realise how pointless that is and steps into the room.

Michael follows, not letting his gaze waver from Geoff’s shoulders. Then Geoff pulls out a chair and sits down, and Michael can see his parents over the top of Geoff’s head.

He stumbles to the chair next to Geoff and sits down, keeping Geoff between himself and his family. Kelsey is there, his little sister Kelsey. She’s scowling and looking down at the table like she’s in a really bad mood. Michael swallows around the sudden lump in his throat.

Jack takes the seat on Michael’s other side, and Claire clears her throat.

“Well,” she says, “First of all I want to thank all of you for coming in today.”

Claire goes on for a little bit, talking about things they should all know already. Michael doesn’t pay much attention. He keeps looking at his family. He lets his gaze move on from Kelsey to his mother. Her hands are clasped in front of her and she’s smiling broadly at Michael, her eyes shiny like she’s about to cry. Michael meets her gaze for a second and has to look away.

Well, he can’t put it off forever. Michael finally forces himself to look at his dad, who is watching Claire and wearing a scowl almost as fierce as Kelsey’s. It’s strange to see him again. He looks different, even though Michael knows that really, he looks exactly the same.

Belatedly, Michael realises that Claire had said his name. He snaps his head around, feeling like he’s been called on in class when he wasn’t paying attention. He’s pretty sure Claire can tell, too, but she just smiles at him.

“Michael, since we’re here today to figure out what everyone wants to have happen and how we can get the best outcome for everyone, I thought we might start with you. What do you want out of this?”

There’s no explanation for why, as soon as he has the opportunity to have his say, Michael finds himself clamming up. “Uh… I dunno,” he says, feeling incredibly stupid and frustrated with himself.

That’s when Michael’s dad decides to chime in. “Michael, we just want to put all this nonsense behind us and bring you home.”

“Okay, but…” Michael looks up at Geoff, who puts a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know…”

Michael’s pretty sure his dad’s scowl deepens when he looks at Geoff. “You’ve made your point already, now it’s time to come home.”

“What _point_?” Michael demands. “You _told_ me to leave!”

Michael’s dad sighs, as though he can’t believe Michael is being so difficult, but it’s Michael’s mother who speaks up. 

“We’ve all missed you so much, Michael,” she says. “We love you. We’re your family.”

“Then why did you tell me to get out?” Michael asks. He hates the way his voice wobbles, especially because he’s mainly talking to his dad. It was his dad who threw him out; he knows his mother didn’t want him to go.

“It was meant to be a wake-up call,” says Michael’s dad. “We figured you’d come home after a few days once you realised how good you had it.”

While Michael’s first reaction is to yell, scream that that’s wrong, he _remembers_ what happened and it wasn’t some misunderstanding… there’s some doubt in there too. What if? What if his dad’s right? What if Michael just overreacted, and if he’d just gone home and tried a bit harder and been a bit less of a fucking asshole, he could have been safe at home with his family this whole time?

“But you said…” he mumbles, but all the certainty is gone from his voice.

“Listen…” says Geoff. He’s got one hand on Michael’s shoulder, and Michael can feel the tension running through him. “Maybe it’s not my place to say anything, but Michael spent a year living on the streets because of your ‘wake up call’. The night we met him, he almost got stabbed. His friend _did_ get stabbed. Are you really trying to justify yourself?”

Michael’s dad goes red. Michael fully expects him to explode; his dad won’t tolerate being spoken to like that. But instead he just clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath before speaking in a low, even tone. Maybe he really is working on himself.

“Look, you’ve known Michael for what, a few months? I don’t think you really understand just how difficult it was to deal with him sometimes. I won’t pretend I was always a perfect dad, but he always had food on the table and a safe place to sleep. He was constantly getting into trouble. His mother and I tried everything, sent him to his room, took away his toys, and nothing worked. Maybe I lost my temper a few times, but anyone would have.”

Michael looks down at the table so that no one can see how much his dad’s words upset him. He knows he was horrible to deal with. He knows how much trouble he put his parents through. Hearing it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it hurts. Having Geoff and Jack and even Claire hear about how shitty a kid he was is painful.

“That’s horseshit, Michael’s fine,” says Jack. He sounds angry; Michael avoids looking at him just in case it turns out that Jack is angry with him. “He’s fine.

“You’re not his father, you don’t know him like I do.”

And for the rest of the meeting, that’s all Michael’s dad will say, that as Michael’s father he’s the one who knows him best. Geoff and Jack don’t seem to agree with him, but Michael doesn’t see how they can argue. It’s his dad; he’s known Michael since he was a baby. If he says Michael’s no good, who would be in a better position to know?

When Michael’s mother asks again for him to come home, Michael mumbles that he needs to think about it. Michael’s dad grumbles, but his mom shushes him and says he just needs some time, and his dad actually listens. 

The meeting winds up after that, and even though it didn’t last very long, Michael feels exhausted.

***

Michael doesn’t say a word for the whole drive back to the office. It’s unusual for him to be so quiet and it has Geoff on edge the whole way.

“You feeling okay, Michael?” Geoff asks at one point.

“Uh-huh,” says Michael without looking up.

They’d dropped Ray off at the office on their way to the meeting, and it looks as though he’s spent the entire time trolling Ryan in a game of Worms. Michael immediately demands to join in. When Ray asks if he’s okay, Michael either doesn’t hear him or pretends not to hear him. Geoff is actually relieved to leave him to it and go to a meeting. At least he can’t fuck up anyone’s emotional well-being by screwing up his meeting. Probably.

He takes lunch in his office while trying to catch up on some paperwork. Jack wanders in about halfway through and sinks down onto Geoff’s couch with a sigh.

“Hey,” Geoff says, still a little distracted. “Have you seen Michael?”

“Yeah. He seems to be doing okay.” Jack sounds pretty sceptical, but Geoff figures seeming okay is the most they can hope for.

“Can you believe that asshole?” Geoff blurts out

“Michael’s dad? God, I know, right? I was worried you were going to punch him in the face.”

“I wish I had,” mutters Geoff.

“I know it’s probably wrong… his mother was doing her best and I’m sure she didn’t have many options, but… I can’t help being kind of angry with her too.”

“Yeah,” says Geoff, giving up on the paperwork he’s trying to get through for the time being. “It does sort of seem like she let Michael take the brunt of it all.”

“Yeah. He loves her, though.”

“I know. And she loves him. It’s just messy.”

Later in the day, when Geoff has accomplished - well, not as much as he would have liked, but enough that he doesn’t feel like setting himself on fire - he leaves his office, because if he looks at one more bit of paperwork he thinks he might actually lose his mind. Gavin and Jeremy are filming something and making a shitload of noise; Geoff would like to go see what’s going on, but he’s looking for Michael.

Michael is in the break room watching TV, or at least sitting in front of the TV while an old episode of Degrassi plays. 

“Hey,” says Geoff.

“Hey,” says Michael. “Time to go home?” 

“Not quite. I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”

Michael shrugs. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, but he sounds… not terrible or anything, not upset, but not exactly _fine_ either.

“That’s good,” says Geoff. If there’s one thing he’s learned since he met Michael and Ray, it’s that he won’t be able to make them talk before they’re good and ready, so he sits next to Michael on the couch and grabs his phone, quickly checking his emails.

A few minutes pass before Michael says, “Did I screw up?”

“Screw what up?” Geoff asks. He’s pretty sure the answer is no, but there’s any number of things Michael could be talking about and he needs to know what he’s dealing with.

“Because, like… he said I could have gone home. That he was just trying to teach me a lesson or whatever, so… did I overreact?”

“No.” Goddammit, this is exactly what Geoff was afraid would happen when Michael’s dad opened his stupid mouth. “That was a heap of bullshit. Your dad knew that he couldn’t defend what he’d done, so he tried to make something up to make himself look less bad.”

“Okay,” Michael says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “But I never… I didn’t try to go back. I didn’t ask if I could.”

“Well, when you were living on the streets, did you ever consider trying to go home? Did you think your dad would let you?”

“No,” says Michael in a small voice.

“Right,” says Geoff. “Your dad had you convinced that it wasn’t even an option. That’s his failure, not yours.”

Michael shrugs. Geoff feels kind of disappointed, because he’d thought it was a pretty good point. “I didn’t have to be such a shit all the time,” he mumbles.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure every teenager acts like a shit a lot of the time,” Geoff jokes. “I know I did.” But Michael’s comment probably deserves a more serious response, so Geoff tries his best to figure out what to say.

“Look, this might be something Brad understands better than I do, but it’s your parents’ job to take care of you and teach you. They signed up for that when they had you. Sometimes kids do things wrong, that goes with the territory, but that doesn’t mean you give up on them forever. You teach them better - and that doesn’t mean yelling at them or hitting them, either. That doesn’t teach anyone anything. You didn’t… you didn’t cause your dad to abuse you.”

“He didn’t abuse me,” Michael says immediately, like it’s a reflex. Geoff doesn’t push it though, because Michael at least looks like he’s considering what Geoff said. He waits, hoping that Michael will say he understands or at least acknowledge Geoff’s point, but instead he says, “Can we go home now?”

Geoff sighs. “Yeah, sure.” He’ll have to bring some work home with him, but that’s not a problem. It will be a relief to get out of the office.

***

“How have you been going with what we talked about last time?”

Ray makes a face, but Dr Coleman still sits there in dead silence until he answers the goddamn question. “Not good.”

“Not good, okay.” 

Ray wonders how she managed to perfect that non-judgemental tone. It’s too good to be sincere.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know, because I’m a fu- a pussy.”

“A pussy.” Shit, now Ray wishes he hadn’t used that word. It just sounds wrong when Dr Coleman repeats it. “I’m hearing a lot of judgement from you there.”

“Well, yeah. None of this stuff was even that hard. I don’t know why I didn’t do any of it.”

Dr Coleman takes out her copy of the chart they drew out last time, and holds it where Ray can see it. “It is hard, though, isn’t it?”

Ray shrugs, not really looking at the chart. Dr Coleman is a hardass, though, and doesn’t budge. “When you think about doing the things on this list - accepting a hug, or asking for help, how does that feel?”

Ray clenches his hands together, his mind shying away from the idea. “It doesn’t feel like anything.”

“Are you sure?”

Ray says nothing, and Dr Coleman waits for a minute. 

“Your body language has changed since we started talking about the list,” says Dr Coleman. “Your shoulders are very tense, and you’re not looking at me. That seems like maybe this subject is causing some unpleasant feelings for you.”

Ray glares at Dr Coleman for a second, just to prove a point. See, he’s doing the eye contact thing, he’s not avoiding anything. “Alright, maybe it is. So what?”

“So it is a difficult thing. It is hard to trust people when you’ve been hurt. There’s no shame in not succeeding the first time you try to do something.”

Damn it. Ray looks away from Dr Coleman again, even though he thinks that by doing so he might be admitting defeat. She changes the topic though, which is a bit of a relief.

“Maybe we should try a role play,” says Dr Coleman. Wait, was Ray just thinking that he felt relieved? He takes that back.

“Can’t we just do electroshock? That sounds like it would be less painful.”

Dr Coleman actually laughs a little bit, which is something. She’s usually so serious; it’s hard to get her to crack a smile. But she doesn’t back down.

“I’ll pretend to be Geoff, and we’re going to work on one of the scenarios on your list. One of the easier ones, yes? You should practice asking for help with something, or asking Geoff to buy something for you. Are you ready?”

“No,” Ray says.

“Okay,” says Dr Coleman. “You just let me know when.” And then she just sits there, and Ray knows damn well she’ll just sit there until the end of the session if he doesn’t stop being such a wuss.

“Fine, let’s get this over with.”

Dr Coleman nods. “Hi, Ray,” she says. She’s not changing her voice or trying to sound like Geoff or anything, which is good. This is already weird. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” says Ray. He thinks about what he’s supposed to say, but he can’t figure out how to put it into a sentence.

“How are you going with your homework?” Dr Coleman asks. She’s really going easy on him, setting him up like that, but Ray can’t remember a single thing he’s meant to be working on that he could ask for help with. He’s supposed to read a book. What’s he going to do, ask Geoff to read it to him?

“Good,” says Ray. 

“That’s good,” says Dr Coleman, and then she’s quiet. Yeah, fair enough, she’s already cut Ray enough slack.

“Um,” says Ray. “Um. Can I? Ask you something?”

“Of course,” says Dr Coleman. Now Ray’s supposed to ask for help with his homework, but he can’t… he doesn’t give a shit about his homework, not enough to even remember what it is.

“Have you heard about, like…” Ray waves one hand around, floundering. Thank God Dr Coleman is patient, and just sits quietly until Ray manages to ramble the question all the way out. “Guys who’ve, like. They’re into guys because a guy did something to them.”

Dr Coleman’s eyes widen slightly, but that’s the only sign that she’s thrown by this sudden curveball. “Do you mean being gay?” she asks.

“Uh, yeah,” says Ray. “Like, some people say that if a guy does something to you, it makes you gay. Is that true?”

“No,” says Dr Coleman. “Trauma can affect people in many ways, but that’s not one of them.”

“Well, what about… some people who do stuff to kids, it’s because someone did that to them when they were a kid. Isn’t it?”

Dr Coleman seems to be considering her words carefully. “There’s a lot of debate on that topic,” she says. “It was certainly a widely accepted theory for many years, but new research suggests that that’s not true.”

Ray nods, even though he’s not totally satisfied with Dr Coleman’s answer. She picks up on what he’s thinking, though. It feels like she’s always one step ahead of him. “Is this something you’re worrying about, for yourself?” she asks, completely abandoning the roleplay idea. “That you’re going to follow in the footsteps of the person who hurt you?”

“No.”

“Do you think you might be gay?”

Ray shrugs, even though he’s actually pretty sure of his answer.

“Because if you are, I want you to know that that’s completely normal and has nothing to do with the abuse you’ve experienced.”

“Yeah, I know,” says Ray, but he sounds a lot less certain than he would have liked.

“It seems like this has been on your mind for some time,” Dr Coleman says.

“Yeah, maybe. I guess so.”

“Does it bother you? The idea that you might be gay?”

“No,” says Ray. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” Dr Coleman says. Ray knows she won’t let it go until he elaborates, so he grits his teeth and tries to put his jumbled thoughts into words.

“It’s just that… other kids my age are doing stuff. Going on dates and all that. Having girlfriends or whatever. Having sex, some of them. But I can’t do that.”

“Can’t you?” asks Dr Coleman.

“Well… no. Like, I could. But… I feel like it would be fake.”

“Fake?” Dr Coleman says. Ray nods, wishing that he could just get her to understand without having to explain himself. “Why would it be fake?”

“Because… they’re all doing that stuff for the first time, and I… wouldn’t be. I’d have to pretend like it was all new to me. Or tell them the truth, and then I’d feel gross.”

“Why would you feel gross?” Dr Coleman asks.

“Because…” Ray starts to feel a touch of anger. “Then whenever they looked at me, they’d be thinking about what happened, and then I’d know that they were thinking about it when they looked at me and that would make me think about it. So the only way to not have to think about it is to lie.”

“Mm. And does that work? When you keep quiet about your experiences, do the intrusive thoughts stop?”

“No, but at least I’m the only one who has to deal with them.” Ray realises his hand is clenched so tight his fingernails are digging into his palm; he grabs the arm of his chair instead. “I think… I won’t ever be able to date anyone or do anything like that, ever. I can’t explain what happened to another person, but if I don’t then they’ll wonder why I’m so messed up, so… I just have to never be with anyone, I guess.”

“Hm,” says Dr Coleman. “Well, never is a long time. You might be surprised by some of the things which seem impossible now. They might not always be that way.”

Ray shrugs without answering. He might not really believe Dr Coleman, but he doesn’t need to be a dick by saying so.

“But that’s not so important right now. I realise that at the moment this hurt is very deep, and it’s hard to do the work needed for healing. It sounds like this has been on your mind for a while. Is there someone you’re interested in?”

Ray wishes he’d never opened his big stupid mouth. “Maybe,” he mumbles.

“Is this someone you’ve mentioned in our sessions before?”

“Maybe,” Ray mumbles again. Dr Coleman is quiet for a moment, and rather than wait to hear whatever she’s about to suggest, Ray blurts out, “It’s Michael. Of course it’s Michael, it’s not like I know anyone else.”

Dr Coleman expresses no surprise at that whatsoever. “Michael is already aware of your background,” she points out.

“Yeah, exactly,” Ray retorts. “So why would he even like me back?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because! Because he knows I’m fucked up. Because he knows about all the gross shit I’ve done. Not the details, but… He knows I tried to have sex with Geoff, back when we first went to stay there, and then he figured out how I always got money whenever we needed it. He probably thinks I’m disgusting. I bet if he knew I liked him it would make him sick.”

Dr Coleman doesn’t speak straight away. Ray realises he might have let a lot more slip than he really meant to; he’s only alluded to those incidents before and she’s never pushed him to talk about them.

“Do you think you’re disgusting?” Dr Coleman asks.

“I mean, kind of. Yeah, I guess,” Ray says.

“Why?” Dr Coleman asks.

Ray hates the way she does that. She’s got this way of asking without any hint of anything in her voice, he can’t tell what she’s thinking at all. Like she’s an alien from another planet trying to understand humans with all their weird beliefs and customs, and she just really wants to know why Ray feels so revolting all the time. How is he supposed to respond to that? What, does she want details?

“Iunno,” says Ray.

Dr Coleman seems to think for a minute, and then draws something on her notepad.

“I can’t draw very well,” she says. “You’ll have to use your imagination a bit, but let’s see.”

She’s drawn a stick figure on the page, big enough so that Ray can see it easily when she holds it up. She adds pigtails and a dress, and says, “Let’s give her a name.”

“Okay,” says Ray. Dr Coleman waits, so Ray says, “Uh, Jennifer.”

Dr Coleman writes ‘Jennifer’ under the stick figure. “This is Jennifer,” she says. “How old is she?”

“Ten?”

“Ten, good. Jennifer is ten years old. She’s a normal child, she goes to school, she has a few friends, she watches cartoons, she plays basketball. What do you think of Jennifer?”

“I… I dunno?” says Ray. “She just seems normal.”

“Just normal. Is she disgusting?”

“No.”

“Now, Jennifer has someone in her life - maybe one of her parents, maybe a family friend or a teacher, but there’s someone who touches her inappropriately. Maybe they force Jennifer to touch them inappropriately, or they masturbate in front of her, or show her pornography. After a while, when Jennifer sees this person she initiates this kind of behaviour.”

Ray shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The weirdness of hearing Dr Coleman say the word ‘masturbate’ as though she uses it every day doesn’t quite distract him from the topic they’re discussing.

“Is Jennifer disgusting?”

“No,” says Ray.

“Why not?”

“Because… it’s not her fault. Someone else did something to her, it wasn’t her choice.” Ray is pretty sure he knows what’s coming next, so he says pre-emptively, “But that’s different to me.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, because… she was only doing that because she’d been taught to. But I… I knew what I was doing. Even after I left home, I… I did it for money, because why not?” It’s a little easier to say, now that he’s already admitted it once.

“Okay. And if Jennifer did that, solicited sex in exchange for money, would she be disgusting then?”

Ray looks at the page again. It’s just a stick figure drawing, but he can imagine this character in his head, a girl who should be going to school and playing with dolls, but instead having to grow up all too fast. He shakes his head.

“It’s very common for us to find it easier to show compassion towards other people than towards ourselves,” says Dr Coleman. “You might feel like you are completely different to Jennifer, but really you’re very similar to her. The fact that someone hurt you, or that you’ve had to make difficult choices to survive, doesn’t mean that you’re disgusting.”

“I guess,” Ray says reluctantly. It’s stupid. He knows Dr Coleman’s right, and it shouldn’t be so hard to accept what she’s saying, but he still _feels_ horrible, deep down.

“Hm,” says Dr Coleman. “I think what we should do is work on challenging some of these negative thoughts. The idea is that when you find yourself falling into the thought patterns we’ve recognised, you consciously replace them with something healthier.”

“Okay,” Ray says, although he has some doubts.

“So the negative thought is, ‘I’m disgusting,’” says Dr Coleman, writing it down underneath Jennifer’s stick-figure legs. “When you find yourself thinking that, what’s something more helpful you can tell yourself?”

“Uh. I’m… not disgusting?” says Ray. Dr Coleman nods and waits for a minute, as though she thinks he’ll come up with something more, but Ray has no idea what to say.

“What about this,” says Dr Coleman, adding something more to her notepad. “‘_I’m... not disgusting… I have been… hurt… and I have struggled… but that’s not all I am… and it doesn’t make me…’”_

_She trails off, and it’s only when she looks up at Ray that he realises she wants his input. Caught off guard, all he can come up with is, “Bad?”_

_Dr Coleman accepts that and finishes writing. She rips the page off the notepad and passes it to Ray._

_“I want you to read this often, and try to remember it when you notice that negative self-talk,” she says. “It will feel a bit unnatural at first, but over time it will get easier.”_

_“Sure,” says Ray, accepting the paper. He looks at the few lines she’s written and tries to imagine reading them to himself, maybe saying them out loud. Dr Coleman has turned out to be pretty switched on most of the time, but this seems kind of weird and he doesn’t get how it will help. He can think nice things about himself until Half Life 3 comes out but it doesn’t mean he’s going to start believing them, does it?_

_“I’ll give it a try,” says Ray, keeping his doubts to himself._

__

***

Michael gave his mother his cell number when they met, and she’s been texting him ever since. She asked him if he’d seen the new season of a show they always watched together, told him about the family of sparrows nesting in the yard, and sent him a photo of Kelsey and the dog playing on the couch. Kelsey looks pretty exasperated, like she always does when she has her photo taken, but she’s not actually scowling or covering her face, by which Michael knows that his mother had probably told her why she wanted the photo and Kelsey had decided to allow it. Looking at the photo makes him smile.

“Chatting with your girlfriend?” Ray asked, coming into the bedroom and flopping down on the bed.

“No,” Michael retorts, locking his phone. It’s stupid; he has no reason to be so defensive about the fact he’s been talking to Shantelle a little bit, aside from Ray’s occasional snide comments.

“Whatever. Keep it secret if you want, it’s not like I care.”

“Fuck you,” Michael sighs. He puts his phone in his pocket. “I don’t even know if I like her like that.”

“No?” Ray asks. He’s taken out his own phone and is scrolling through some page or other. “You sure talk to her a lot, though.”

“Yeah, well. She’s cool. I dunno, maybe I do like her. So what?”

“So what,” Ray echoes. Michael rolls his eyes. Ray’s being weird. 

His phone dings with another text message, and Ray says, “Well, there’s your not-girlfriend, or whatever she is.”

“Shut up.”

Michael unlocks his phone and opens the message. It’s his mother again, saying, “I thought you’d like to see this photo of the garden. I planted magnolias this year and they grew beautifully!”

Michael smiles down at his phone. His mother loves her garden. She spends months planning out what she’s going to plant and where, weeding and watering and pruning and fuck knew what else. Michael had never taken much interest, except to complain about having to mow the lawn, but now, looking at the photo, he’s struck with a wave of fondness. He can see Kelsey’s bike just at the edge of the photo. She still has that dumb purple plastic basket on the front. There’s the lopsided pot he made his mother for Mother’s Day one year. There’s a cactus growing in it. 

Ray starts making kissing noises. Suddenly angry, Michael straightens up and throws a pillow at him. It wacks Ray in the face.

“Fuck you!” Michael yells. He stomps over to the door and yanks it open, deciding at the last moment not to slam it behind him.

“What the fuck?” he hears Ray say as he leaves, but Michael ignores him. Ray can go to hell, seriously.

He winds up in the living room where Geoff and Jack are sitting on the sofa. “Everything okay, Michael?” Geoff asks.

Christ, they’d probably heard him yelling at Ray. “Yeah,” Michael grumbles. He drops down into an armchair and pulls his legs up under himself.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Geoff asks.

They have another meeting with Claire tomorrow. Michael is supposed to give his final decision as to whether he wants to go home to his parents or stay with Jack and Geoff, although everyone seems to assume Michael has already made his mind up.

“No,” Michael says, although as soon as he starts to think about it, he does feel quite nervous. He reaches into his pocket and finds the corner of his phone case, as though he wants to remind himself it’s there.

“You don’t have to worry,” says Geoff. Of course he can tell Michael isactually nervous. “Claire’s been working hard on this, I’m sure she’ll make sure that you can stay.”

“Yeah,” Michael murmurs.

“Jack and I were talking about going to the pool this weekend, what do you think?” Geoff asks.

“Uh-huh,” says Michael, still lost in thought.

“Michael?” Geoff asks.

Michael pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns it over in his hands. “What if…” he starts.

“Mm?”

“What if, I, um… went home?”

The room is suddenly very quiet. Michael looks up for a second and sees Geoff and Jack both staring at him with twin expressions of shock. He ducks his head back down towards his phone. Fuck, they’re going to be so angry. No, worse. They’re going to be disappointed. 

“Are you sure, Michael?” Jack asks, but Geoff speaks over him.

“Michael, you’re not saying this because you’re worried about the cost or something, are you?” 

“No,” says Michael. “Fuck, I’m not Ray.” He’s not the one who worries about how much he’s allowed to _need_ from these guys.

“It’s just that… this is a big decision, and this is the first time you’ve talked about wanting to go back to your parents,” Jack points out.

“Yeah,” Michael says. “But… I’ve missed them. A… a lot. And Dad says he’s working on things, Mom says he’s changed. So… I could go home. And it would be okay.” God, he really wanted to go home, and just have things be okay.

Jack and Geoff exchange a look. Michael can’t tell what they’re thinking, but eventually Geoff says, “If that’s what you want, Michael, that’s great. But you can still call us if you need anything, or if anything… happens.”

“Of course,” Jack agrees immediately.

“Thanks. Do you think Claire will be mad, after all the work she’s done on this?”

“No,” says Geoff. “I think she’ll be happy for you.”

Behind him, Michael hears Ray ask, “Happy for who?” and his stomach sinks down to his knees. He looks at Geoff desperately, but he can see from his expression that the older man has no intention of bailing him out of this one.

“Um…” he says, turning around. “Um… I’m thinking about. Uh. About maybe, going home?” Ray just looks at him uncomprehendingly, so Michael clarifies, “To my mom and dad.”

“Oh,” says Ray, his tone unnervingly devoid of emotion. Then he says, “What the _fuck_?”

“Look, I’ve just been thinking…”

“Oh, you’ve just been thinking! Well I thought we were going to stick together, but obviously you only meant that up until you got a better offer!”

“Come on, Ray!”

Jack stands up from the couch, spreading out his hands. “Okay, look, we should try to talk about this calmly…”

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? What about all that stuff you told me about your dad? He’s going to beat the shit out of you!”

“No he’s not, he’s getting better!”

“Come on, you don’t seriously believe that.”

“Ray, we understand you have concerns, but this isn’t helping,” says Geoff.

“Well someone’s got to point this shit out! What, were you and Jack just going to let him go?”

“The only reason you’re being such a bitch about all this is because your Mom doesn’t want you back!” Michael yells. A deafening silence falls in the room, allowing Michael to replay the words he’d just said in his own head. He feels the blood drain from his face.

“Ray, I didn’t mean…”

Ray shakes his head. “Yeah, you did. You know what, fuck you.” He turns on his heel and stalks out of the room. A few seconds later, Michael hears the back door slam.

He turns to face Geoff. “I, I really didn’t mean to say that. Why did I say that? Fuck, what am I gonna do?” 

“We’re all a bit wound up,” says Geoff.

Jack says, “I’m going to go check on Ray,” and heads towards the back door.

***

Ray is standing at the far end of the back yard, shoulders hunched and fists clenched, kicking at the grass with one foot. Jack can tell that Ray hears him approach by the way his shoulders tense, but he doesn’t look around or acknowledge Jack in any way.

“Ray,” Jack asks after a minute. 

“Yeah,” says Ray, his voice flat.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck. “Listen, Michael…”

“_Fuck_ Michael,” Ray snaps. Okay, time for a change in tactic.

“I know you’re upset.”

“I’m not,” says Ray, sounding more upset by the second. “I’m fucking fine. I don’t give a shit. Michael can suck my dick, he can… fuck.” Ray finally looks around at Jack’s face. He gives Jack a look like he’s sizing him up, although for what, Jack isn’t sure.

“Here,” Ray says at last, holding something out. It’s his phone. Jack gives Ray a puzzled look, but Ray just gestures with the phone until Jack takes it from him.

There’s a Facebook messenger conversation on the screen. Jack isn’t sure if he wants to read it, but the first message catches his eye without him thinking about it.

4:52 pm Hi, mom  
4:53 pm Its Ray

Jack glances up at Ray, who’s standing with his arms folded, staring at the phone rather than looking at Jack. Jack keeps reading.

7:21 pm Hi, Ray. How are you?

7:48 pm I’m good  
7:49 pm I’ve been staying with these two guys

8:02 pm That’s good.  
8:04 pm Are they taking care of you?

8:10 pm Yeah  
8:14 pm Were trying to sort out this thing where they become my guardians. Like legally.  
8:15 pm Did you get any letters about anything like that?

8:23 pm No, nothing like that.  
8:25 pm Maybe it was sent to the wrong address.

8:32 pm Yeah maybe

8:46 pm It was nice to hear from you, Ray. Don’t be a stranger <3

“Michael was right,” says Ray once Jack has finished reading. “She doesn’t want me back. She doesn’t even give a shit.”

“I’m sorry,” says Jack, because what the fuck else is there to say? Three years, and she replied to his message like he’d been away at a sleepover for the weekend. Poor kid.

“Whatever, it’s fine. Who gives a shit,” says Ray. “I don’t need her anyway. I’m better off on my own.” He sniffles a bit, and Jack tries not to panic. God, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Ray starts crying. He doesn’t know what to do as it is. “It’s my own stupid fault for messaging her in the first place. I should have just, should have just let it be.” Ray rubs at his eye and Jack wants to scream.

“I don’t really know what to say,” Jack admits. “I’m sorry, I… can I hug you? Would that be okay?”

Instead of answering, Ray stumbles towards him and crashes into Jack’s shoulder. Jack puts his hands around Ray reflexively and feels his shoulders shaking. And now, uncomfortably aware that Ray is crying into his shoulder, the right words come to him.

“I’m sorry. This… it stinks, and you deserve better. I know it’s not the same, but Geoff and I aren’t going anywhere.”

Ray clings to him until, after a few minutes, he seems to calm. He steps back from Jack and wipes his face.

“You’d better never tell anyone about how I cried like a baby.”

Jack laughs a little bit, even though he still feels close to tears himself. “Cross my heart,” he says. 

“Michael’s an asshole,” Ray says, but the anger is gone from his voice. “He’s a fucking moron. How can he trust what his dad says, after everything he’s done?”

Jack hesitates. Whatever he says here, Ray will end up relating it back to his own family as well as Michael’s. “I know Michael’s told you about a lot of the shitty things his dad did, but Michael probably has some happy memories of him too.”

Ray makes a disbelieving noise. Jack goes on, “That kind of thing is hard to let go of. Michael has probably always hoped he might be able to home.”

“I thought that… I mean, I thought we would just stick together.”

“Ray…” 

Ray gives himself a shake. “Fuck, never mind. That was stupid of me. Of course he’d rather go home if he has the option.” 

“It’s not stupid…”

“Whatever. I don’t care anyway. Why don’t you guys stop him from going home? You know it’s a stupid idea, right?”

“Ray, we can’t just… stop him. Michael’s not our kid. We don’t have any legal right to tell him what to do. If Michael says he wants to go home, then…”

“But you could talk him out of it!”

“Have you had much luck talking Michael out of things in the past?”

Ray grumbles under his breath, but doesn’t really argue. That’s a relief; Jack likes to think he’s doing a pretty good job of pretending he’s not completely floored by Michael’s decision, but he can’t keep that up forever. 

“Why don’t we go inside? We should rescue Michael from Geoff.”

“Michael doesn’t deserve rescuing,” Ray mutters, but he heads into the house anyway.


	14. Chapter 14

Hearing Michael say that he wanted to leave had hit Geoff like a punch in the gut. He’d known immediately that there was nothing he could do to stop Michael. It would have been incredibly difficult to win a custody dispute against Michael’s parents even if Michael had been on board. If he wants to go home, they have to let him. But that means Michael going away, somewhere else where he’ll be vulnerable and Geoff won’t be able to protect him.

Now, Geoff sits next to Michael in Claire’s office, while Claire herself raises her impeccable eyebrows in Michael’s direction. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah,” says Michael. “I mean, I guess so.”

Part of Geoff wants to point out that Michael doesn’t sound very sure. The other, smarter part tells him to keep quiet and let Claire handle this.

“When we first met, you were strongly opposed to going back to your parents,” Claire points out. “What’s changed?”

“Um. So, I’ve been talking to Mom a bit, and she says Dad’s been working on things since I left. Like, dealing with his anger and stuff. She says he’s doing better.”

“That’s good,” says Claire. “He’s been attending therapy?”

“Um, I dunno.”

“Well, it’s positive, anyway. Have you talked much to your father yourself?”

“No, uh… not a lot.”

“But he’s also said that he wants you to come home.” 

“Yeah.”

Claire nods and types something on her laptop. She looks up and meets Geoff’s eyes.

“Okay,” Claire says. “Then I’ll need to contact your parents to tell them your decision. They’ll probably want you to come home quite soon. How does that sound?”

Michael shrugs, looking down at his hands. Claire wraps up the meeting, but stops Geoff as he’s about to follow Michael out of the room.

“This is quite a shift,” Claire says. “Did anything happen to set this off?”

“No, not that I can think of,” says Geoff. “Honestly, it seemed to come out of nowhere. I guess Michael’s been thinking it over for a while, but... There’s nothing we can do, right? We can’t, I don’t know…”

“They’re his parents, and Michael says he wants to go. Any court would consider it open and shut,” says Claire, and it’s something Geoff already knew, but hearing Claire say it makes it real. He slumps. 

“I’m really worried,” he admits.

“Me too,” says Claire. “But there’s something you learn in this line of work. Don’t pick a battle you can’t win. Save your strength for the ones you can.”

It’s sensible advice, for all that it’s not what Geoff wants to hear. He can’t stop Michael from going home if that’s what he wants, so he needs to figure out what he can do to make sure Michael’s as safe as possible.

Geoff joins up with the others in the lobby, still mulling it over. Ray and Michael seem to have gotten over their argument for the most part, although they’re still a bit awkward around each other. Michael had been so guilt stricken over it last night that Geoff hadn’t had the heart to tell him off. Now, he mostly seems relieved that Ray hasn’t stopped speaking to him.

Ray, for his part, is doing a great job of pretending like everything’s fine. Geoff is a little afraid to poke at that smooth exterior, for fear of unleashing whatever mess of emotions is hidden underneath. At some point they’re going to have to deal with that, and it’s going to be hell.

“Let’s head into the office,” he says, and the others jump up to follow him to the car.

He hasn’t put much thought into how to break the news to the guys at work, which was probably a bit stupid of him. They’ve grown pretty fond of Michael too. Jeremy says, “What the fuck, I thought we were going to play Runescape together!” Then he claps Michael on the shoulder and says, “Well, that’s great news, man.”

Gavin looks like a puppy who’s just been kicked. The effect is a little diminished because he wears that expression quite often, including when he learns that something funny happened while he was out of the office and when the store has run out of his preferred brand of toothpaste. Still, Geoff makes a mental note to keep an eye on him.

Ryan gives Geoff a long look which reveals that he’s thinking exactly the things which Geoff is thinking. Both the ‘this is a horrible idea’ stuff and also the ‘there’s still not a damn thing we can do about it’ stuff. It’s… not reassuring, exactly, but validating, to know that people other than Jack and Ray are in agreement with Geoff about this.

Gavin immediately drags Michael off to do something-or-other. They invite Ray to come along, but he turns them down and hangs back with Geoff and Jack. Even though Ray doesn’t seem quite as angry with Michael as he was, he is distancing himself a little. Geoff can’t really blame him. 

Geoff takes the opportunity to ask Ray, “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” says Ray, and there’s something almost dismissive in his voice.

Jack had shared his talk with Ray the night before, of course. Geoff couldn’t imagine what was going through Ray’s head. Which was why it would be extremely useful if Ray would just tell him.

“It’s going to be okay,” says Geoff.

“I think I’ll go see what Michael and Gavin are up to,” says Ray, heading for the door. Well fuck. Geoff glances at Jack, who sighs at him. Maybe Ray will at least talk to Michael, now.

Maybe tomorrow Geoff will wake up and know what to do.

***

Michael had thought that Ray would start talking to him again before he left. Not that Ray isn’t speaking to him, exactly, but… it’s not the same. He talks to Michael like he talks to the kids in class, or people at Rooster Teeth who he doesn’t know very well. Michael has tried his best to be patient. He knows Ray needs to get used to the idea that he’s going home and they’re not going to be together anymore. He’s just getting tired of feeling so guilty.

It’s not his _fault_ that it happened this way, that he gets his family back and Ray doesn’t. It’s not like he wanted it to be like this, but that’s how it is, so what’s he supposed to do?

Michael’s going home today, and Ray still looks away when he comes into the room. Ray’s not going to give him a chance to… Michael doesn’t even know what. Part on somewhat decent terms, he supposes. Feel like he’s not a complete piece of shit.

He’s in the bedroom, packing up his stuff, and Ray wanders in to get something. He’s been avoiding the bedroom, full as it is of the signs of Michael getting ready to leave.

“Hey,” says Michael.

Ray grunts, grabs something from the dresser, and turns back to the door.

“Ray, wait,” Michael calls.

“What?” Ray asks, stopping and turning around, but stopping just short of facing Michael.

Now that he has the opportunity, Michael doesn’t know what to say. 

“Um,” he says. “I just… look, I’m leaving today, so…”

Ray rolls his eyes and folds his arms. Michael gulps. He’s losing him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, even though he’s not, not exactly.

Ray sighs and hangs his head. “No you’re not. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Well, now Michael’s confused. “Then… why have you been…”

“Why what?”

“You’ve been acting really weird.”

Ray shrugs, huffs out a breath. “Look… it’s just hard, okay? I thought…”

“Thought what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

God damn it. “Yes it does. If I’m leaving today then, like… I’d like us to still be friends. You’ve been acting like we barely know each other. Of course it matters.”

“It doesn’t, you’re still gonna leave no matter what I say,” Ray says, his voice rough. “I’m going to miss you, dickhead.”

“It’s not like I’m dying,” Michael points out. Ray laughs, but not very much. Well, Michael is just going to have to prove that he’s not going to disappear, just because he’s going back to living with his parents.

Geoff meets him in the driveway where he sticks fifty bucks into Michael’s hand. “If anything happens - _anything_,” he says, “you can call me, or Jack. Any time of the day or night.”

“Sure,” says Michael.

“I mean it. Even if it’s not for anything urgent. You’d better stay in touch.”

“I _will_,” Michael says, getting a little bit testy. He’s touched, though. He didn’t really think that Geoff was going to be too bothered about him once he decided to go home. He doesn’t really deserve it.

They’re meeting his folks at Claire’s office again. They plan to get there a little bit early, but his parents are already waiting there when they arrive. Michael’s kind of disappointed - he’d have liked to have a few minutes before they turned up just to say goodbye, but okay. It’s not like he can’t talk to Geoff and Jack and Ray with an audience. It’s fine.

His dad looks serious, with his hair combed down straight and flat to his skull. Kelsey seems a bit out of sorts, can’t even return Michael’s smile when he says hello. His mom looks great. She’s put on makeup for the occasion, which she almost never does. Michael remembers she told him once that she only had so much time, and she had lots of other things she’d rather spend it on than doing her makeup. Another time, though, she’d got dressed up for an outing, and she’d told Michael that it was because it was such a special day. Just like today - she must be treating it like a special day because he’s coming home.

She’d been upset when she said that. She’d been… her eyes had been red and the makeup did nothing to hide it, not like… she’d been upset.

She’d been upset.

Michael shoots up from his seat so quickly that his chair nearly tips over. It would have fallen over if Geoff hadn’t caught it, and he stares up at Michael with huge, surprised eyes.

“You lied!” Michael shouts. 

His mother just looks at him, but his dad says, “Don’t be ridiculous, Michael.” 

“You said you’d changed!” He shifts his glare back to his mom. “_You_ told me he was different!”

“Michael…” his mom says.

“We can talk about this when we get home,” says his dad, glaring.

“Fuck no, I’m not going fucking _anywhere_ with you!”

“Watch your fucking mouth!”

Michael backs away from the table, shaking his head. Claire, clearly trying to take back control of the situation, says, “We might all want to take a minute to have a breather and calm down…”

“Listen, lady, this is my family and I don’t see why we need you telling us to do anything.”

Claire purses her lips. “If Michael is going back to the same volatile situation he left a year ago, I think we’re all quite rightly very concerned about that.”

Michael’s dad gets up out of his chair and looms in Claire’s direction. “I don’t care what you…”

“Listen, pal,” says Geoff, moving a bit closer to Claire.

“You stay out of this!”

A pair of security guards appear in the doorway. “You need to leave the premises, or we’ll call the police,” says Claire.

“Please, call the police so I can tell them all about how you kidnapped my son!” yells Michael’s dad. 

Michael snorts, because what a load of bullshit, but Geoff says, “Listen, no one’s trying to keep Michael from his family, we just want to make sure he’s safe,” and he sounds kind of worried, so maybe there is something to his dad’s threat after all.

Michael’s dad stands up, shoving his chair back so hard it nearly falls over. His mom starts to say something, but his dad speaks right over the top of her. “Listen, I don’t know what the kid’s been telling you, but I don’t think you understand just how difficult it was to deal with him. He’d get into trouble all the time, and he never listened to anything his mom and I would say. Sure, he got a hiding or two if he had them coming. Nothing else worked. Don’t get taken in if he’s making out it was anything more than that.”

“I never said anything!” Michael says. He meant to yell it, but there’s no breath in his lungs and the words come out faint and squeaky. He didn’t, though. Not until that first meeting with Claire, and even then, he’d tried to explain that it wasn’t that bad and it was his fault most of the time anyway. He’d tried…

Geoff is yelling something back at Michael’s dad, although he’s not really listening anymore and it’s kind of hard to hear anyway. Michael’s dad is yelling too, and Claire and Jack are talking, probably telling everyone to calm down. Kelsey has her hands over her ears and is hunched down in her chair, her nose barely two inches from the table. Michael’s mom is crying and Michael kind of feels like crying himself. His dad starts to move around the table, and Michael worries that he’s going to punch Geoff, but the security guards grab him before he gets close enough.

They can hear Michael’s dad yelling all the way down the hall, until the security guards presumably kick him out of the building. Michael’s mom grabs her bag and tugs on Kelsey’s arm.

“Come on, Kelsey,” she says, sniffling. “Come on, we need to go.”

“No,” Kelsey says, pulling away. “No, I’m not going.”

“Kelsey, come on.” She looks at Claire and offers an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry, she’s not feeling well.”

“It’s fine,” says Claire, “you don’t have to leave.”

“Oh, Kyle will want to get home. Come on, Kelsey, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Kelsey still refuses to budge, and Michael’s mom seems at her wit’s end. “Gemma,” Claire says gently, “do you really want to go home with him?”

***

In the end, they book Gemma and Kelsey into a hotel room. Geoff pays for a cab for the two of them and he notices Claire slip Gemma her card. It could have seemed opportunistic or self-serving, but Claire genuinely seems to care about getting the two of them away from Kyle. They’d never have been able to convince her to leave him without Claire’s help.

With his dad out of the room, Michael finally seems to loosen up. He talks to his mom and sister while they wait for the cab and shows them what seems like several thousand photos on his phone. 

Eventually the cab arrives and Gemma and Kelsey have to leave. Geoff, Jack and Michael leave at the same time; they’re falling way behind at the office thanks to everything that’s going on, and while the rest of the guys have been great about holding things together, they can’t keep that up forever. 

When they ask Michael, he says, “She never wears makeup. She only put it on to cover up where he hit her.” 

He’s calmed down but he’s clearly still pretty upset. Geoff doesn’t know what to say to him; he could tell Michael that it’s going to be okay but Michael won’t believe him. Geoff doesn’t really believe it himself. Sure, Gemma and Kelsey are away from Michael’s dad for now, but who knows how long that’ll last.

The guys are surprised to see Michael with them when they get to the office. Geoff gives them a very much abbreviated explanation of what happened. Ryan gets that look on his face which Geoff assumes means he’s feeling the urge to murder someone and there’s no appropriate target nearby.

Ray has been moping around like he’s hoping no one will notice him. At some point, Geoff might have to pull him aside and tell him that it’s not his fault things didn’t work out, no matter what he secretly or not-so-secretly hoped for. Assuming that Ray will listen to him.

During lunch, Geoff takes an opportunity while everyone is distracted and ambushes Jack in the hallway, hugging him tight and resting his forehead against Jack’s shoulder. Jack sighs and hugs him back.

“Fuck, dude,” says Geoff.

“Yeah,” says Jack, and that’s all they need to say. That’s all there is to say. Jack kisses the shell of Geoff’s ear and lets him go, and Geoff feels just a little bit better after that. Like maybe he can get through the rest of the day without losing his mind.

***

Ray is pretending to work on a book report but mostly playing tetris on his phone when Michael wanders into the room and sits on the couch next to him. Ray hunches his shoulders and pretends he doesn’t notice; as though his attention is so absorbed by slotting the I piece into place that he doesn’t even realise Michael is there.

It’s been awkward between him and Michael ever since the argument they had when Michael said he wanted to go home. They haven’t been talking much, and now even if Ray wanted to talk, he has no idea what he’d say.

“Are you going to say you told me so?” Michael asks, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“No!” says Ray immediately. It’s never even occurred to him to do that, not even in the shameful few minutes he’d spent being glad that Michael wasn’t going home before he’d managed to squash that feeling away.

“Because you did,” Michael goes on. “I didn’t listen to you, because I’m a great, big, stupid, moronic, fucking braindead-”

He wasn’t going to stop, Ray realised. “Michael, take it easy,” he said.

“-big dumb idiot,” Michael finished.

Ray doesn’t know what to say. Michael has a bit of a point; Ray did warn him that going home would be a bad idea. But to say so now would just be cruel, and Ray can’t pretend to be sorry that it didn’t work out - even if Michael had gone with his parents today, Ray would have just been worrying about him every second. It’s better that Michael didn’t go, but that’s not what Michael needs to hear right now.

“You really wanted to go home, huh,” Ray says instead.

“I guess,” Michael grumbles, kicking at the legs of the couch. “I don’t know why.”

Ray isn’t sure what to say, but after a second Michael adds, “I thought once I was gone, the three of them would be… better. Happier? They wouldn’t have as many problems and Dad wouldn’t be so angry all the time. And then when they said they wanted me to come home and that Dad was working on things, it was like everything I’d worried about was turning out to be true. But at least that meant that maybe things would be okay, as long as I could stop being such a dick all the time.”

“You’re not a dick,” Ray says, because he’s not sure where to start with any of the other things Michael had said. “Okay, sometimes you’re a dick, but not all the time.”

Michael doesn’t really react; Ray realises that he’s still working through something in his mind.

“”What if I had it all backwards?” he asks. “What if, once I was gone, Dad was worse to Kelsey and Mom because I wasn’t there anymore?”

“I don’t know,” says Ray. “It sounds like you’re just twisting it around to find another way to blame yourself.”

“Well, I should have known!” Michael insists. “Sometimes I’d pick a fight with him so he wouldn’t start in on Kelsey. What did I think she was going to do once I was gone?”

“Why should you have to stay and put up with that to keep her safe?”

“Well no one else was going to!”

“Why didn’t your mom leave him?” Ray demands. Michael falls silent, and Ray shifts uneasily on the couch. Moms are a bit of a sore topic for him, but it seems he can’t help but bring it up anyway.

“I don’t know,” says Michael. “Sometimes she talked about it, but then she’d say we had nowhere else to go. Other times, she said things would be better if _we_ were better.”

So that was where Michael had picked that idea up, Ray thinks. “So she blamed you for your dad too.”

After a very long pause, Michael says, “Once she said that he was never like that until she got pregnant with me.”

“That’s horseshit!” Ray snaps, startled by the force of his own anger. “She’s blaming you for things that happened before you were even born!”

Michael shrugs, for once the calm one in contrast to Ray’s fury. “I don’t think she knew what to do.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks for notifications. “She hasn’t tried to call,” he says.

Ray can’t just say, ‘So?’ although he’d really like to.

“What if something’s wrong?” Michael asks in a small voice.

“Why don’t you call her?” Ray suggests.

“But what if she’s mad at me?”

“Fuck that, she should be worried about whether you’re mad at her.”

Michael says, “Uh-huh,” but he still seems subdued and Ray can tell that he’s not convinced.

***

What with everything that’s been going on, Ray hasn’t been keeping up with his schoolwork. He’d even asked Jack and Geoff for some help on his book report, and they’d seemed happy to help, but he hasn’t quite managed to finish the book and his paper is only about half as long as he’d been aiming for.

Tina asks, “So what happened?”

Ray shrugs and says, “Things have been pretty crazy.” He doesn’t feel like going into detail about it.

“Hm.” Tina skims the page he’s written and props her elbows on the table. “Well, you were aiming to have this finished by today, so what do you want to do? Do you think you’ll be able to finish it if you take a couple more days? Or do you want to assess what you’ve done so far and move on?”

“I don’t know.” He wasn’t expecting to have that choice left up to him. Ray supposes he should have known better. “I’m kind of tired of working on it.”

“Well then, you can stop.”

“But…” Ray hesitates, trying to figure out how to express what he’s thinking. “Wouldn’t that be… I thought you’d be like, ‘No Ray, you suck, you have to finish this paper and you only get half the credit and you also have to finish a second paper as punishment.”

Tina laughs, and Ray thinks he takes her reaction remarkably well considering. Sure, he’d said all that in a jokey kind of way, but there’d been a dash of truth in the middle of it. He’d expected Tina to be cross with him for not finishing his work, or maybe to act all disappointed the way adults do when they don’t want you to know they’re mad. If not that, maybe she just wouldn’t care because she knew he was a screwup and it was pointless to expect anything from him. But she wasn’t doing any of those things.

“Look, I’m sure you’ve noticed that this program is run very differently to a typical school. That’s deliberate; our students aren’t suited to traditional schooling for a lot of different reasons. If I did what you said, and criticised and punished you for not finishing your work, what would you learn?”

“To… finish my work on time?”

“Would you?”

“Uh. Like, I know I should have finished it. I should have planned better or been more organised or whatever.”

“Then why didn’t you finish it?”

“Like I said, it was just… stuff came up.”

“Well then, it doesn’t sound like it would do much good if I got angry with you,” Tina points out. “Ray, why do you think Caiti and I get you to choose your own projects, and mark them yourselves?”

Ray shrugs. He hasn’t really thought about it, beyond speculating that it’s a matter of laziness. Not that he blames Caiti and Tina for that - he would do the same thing in their shoes. But now it sounds like there’s more to it.

“To - make sure we’re interested in what we’re learning?” he guesses.

Tina nods. “That’s part of it. But there’s more to it than that - what we’re trying to do is get you to take ownership of your learning. Sure, it helps to study a topic you’re interested in, but it helps even more when you’re the one making the decisions about how you’re going to learn and how you’re going to judge what you’ve achieved, much more than it would if I just told you what to do every day. I can tell from talking to you that you feel really frustrated about not finishing your paper, not about getting a bad grade or being in trouble, but because you didn’t achieve something that you thought you’d be able to achieve.”

“Yeah,” Ray muttered, glowering at his half-finished paper resentfully. “I guess.”

“Well, what do you want to do about it?”

Ray scans the page. The last sentence he’d written isn’t even finished. He knew where he’d been going with it, but he hadn’t been able to focus. Now that he looks at what he’s written, it all seems so ridiculously straightforward, but every time he’s tried to work on it over the past two weeks, it felt like the words just wouldn’t come.

“I want to finish it,” he says. “Some stupid paper isn’t going to beat me.”

Tina nods and leaves Ray to keep working. Ray pulls out his copy of the book and opens it, but as keen as he is to keep his word, he’s got something else on his mind right now.

The amount of freedom he and the other students in the group were given had been weird to Ray from the start, back when he thought it was just a clever way of avoiding arguments and work. Now that he knows that it’s intentional, that there’s some kind of philosophy behind it, it’s downright frightening. How can Caiti and Tina be comfortable with giving Ray so much control? He’s a dumbass, Tina had to pick a book for him to write about because he didn’t know what to choose. And look at Michael!

For months now they’ve been living in a place where they’re safe and taken care of, and Michael wants to throw it all away to go back to his parents who treated him so badly. Yeah, there’s some great decision making skills right there. 

He looks at Michael again. Just as Ray glances towards him, Michael starts giggling at something Shantelle said. Ray scowls and looks down at his book.

If he could just be a little bit more brave, he’d tell Michael that he wants him to stay, that he’ll miss him if he leaves, that he l… he likes him. But there’s no point, is there? Michael wants what he wants, and that appears to be going home to his horrible parents and probably dating Shantelle and being a normal teenage boy with a normal girlfriend and a normal family and forgetting that Ray exists.

Class ends and Geoff arrives to pick Ray and Michael up. Ray moodily shuffles out to the car and moodily buckles his seatbelt. When Michael looks like he’s about to start a conversation, Ray takes out his book and opens it up. He only manages to read about a page, and he exits the car feeling a bit queasy, but that’s one page closer to the end of the book so fuck you, S. E. Hinton.

Michael has noticed that Ray isn’t interested in talking, and instead is pestering Geoff about suggestions for a video he’s been working on. He’s still got his phone in his hand the whole time, fiddling with it nervously and looking at the phone every couple of seconds. Shantelle must be busy right now, though, because he doesn’t get any messages.

Okay, maybe Ray’s being a bit unfair. He knows Michael’s as likely to be waiting for a message from his mom as from Shantelle, but it’s easier, somehow, to imagine that Shantelle is the one he’s waiting to hear from. Ray really can’t justify being jealous of Michael’s family. 

He wanders over to a corner in the breakroom and finds a seat to keep reading his book. There’s only two chapters left, and he thinks if he can finish it by the time they head home, he can add a paragraph or two to his book report and have it more or less finished. It won’t be good or anything, but it will be done.

He’s almost at the end when he notices Michael hovering near the doorway, glancing at Ray from the corner of his eye and turning his phone around and around in his hands. Ray keeps his eyes firmly on his book, even though he’s no longer getting any meaning out of the words. He reads the same sentence a dozen times without understanding it, determined not to be the first to give in.

It works. After a couple of minutes Michael slinks away. Ray should be able to concentrate on his book again, but instead he just feels guilty. It’s definitely all Michael’s fault.

***

Geoff is pretty absorbed in his work, but not so much that he doesn’t notice Michael hovering in the doorway to his office. There’s a lot to do, and for a minute Geoff considers telling Michael that he’s busy and whatever it is will have to wait. Then Geoff remembers all the shit Michael’s been dealing with and feels like a horrible person.

Geoff saves his work and turns around to look at Michael. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Oh, hey,” says Michael, sounding surprised as though he hadn’t just been lurking around waiting for Geoff to see him.

“Everything okay?” Geoff asks. His gaze drifts back to his computer; he’d really been making some headway on his work…

“Yeah…” Michael says. He leans against the wall. “So, uh… you’re gay, right?”

Geoff turns back towards Michael, his eyebrows creeping upwards. “Yeah?” he says, trying to figure out where Michael is going with this.

“Well… how did you know that you were?”

Oh, boy. Geoff feels a brief internal pang for all the work he’s definitely not going to get finished, then locks his computer and scoots his desk chair over towards the spare chair he keeps in his office.

“Come on,” he says to Michael, “sit down.”

When Michael is comfortably seated in the chair next to him, Geoff says, “I think I always kind of knew.” He’s watching Michael closely and can see that he’s not totally satisfied with this. “But it’s not like that for everyone,” Geoff continues. “Some people don’t realise until they start thinking about dating, or later.”

Michael seems to think that over. Geoff has never seen him look so solemn. At last he can’t help himself, and prompts, “What brought this on, Michael?”

“Oh, nothing,” Michael says quickly. He’s got that guilty, evasive tone which scares the shit out of Geoff when he hears it from Gavin or Jeremy. Right now he just forces himself to sit quietly and wait.

“I kissed Shantelle,” Michael says. Geoff’s mind immediately starts racing. Who’s Shantelle? Why are she and Michael kissing? Why is he so caught off guard by this? This is the kind of thing he should be on top of, right? “At class today,” Michael adds, and a picture starts to form in Geoff’s head. Yeah, he had noticed Michael becoming friendly with one of the girls there, although he hadn’t known her name. Shantelle. Okay.

“Well…” says Geoff, and then he trails off because he’s not sure what he’s supposed to say. Congratulations? That seems kind of weird, and it probably hadn’t gone quite how Michael had hoped if it had prompted this conversation.

“I’d never kissed anyone before,” Michael says. “It was weird.”

“Sometimes,” says Geoff slowly, “When you spend a lot of time imagining what something might be like, it’s hard to know how to feel when it really happens, because it’s different to what you were expecting.”

Michael grimaces and Geoff worries that maybe he missed the mark.

“What if I didn’t like it?” Michael asks in a low voice, almost a whisper.

“Well, then that’s okay,” Geoff says, fumbling. “However you feel about it is fine. Maybe you’re just not ready to be kissing gi - uh, people yet. Maybe it turns out you don’t like her that way after all.”

Michael is fiddling with the hem of his shirt and looking miserable. Geoff asks, tentatively, “Do.. you think there’s someone else you want to kiss?”

“No,” says Michael immediately. He follows that up with, “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“It’s fine if you don’t know,” says Geoff, because making reassuring noises seems to be the one thing he’s kind of getting right in this conversation. “Have you… talked much to this other person?”

Surprisingly, it’s Michael who tires of the ambiguous gender game first. “Do you know what my Dad would say if he thought I was gay?” Michael asks, his voice only trembling a little.

“No,” Geoff says, wincing internally. There’s a part of Michael that so clearly still wants his father’s approval, even despite everything.

“He would have… He would have kicked me out, but he did that anyway, so I don’t even know.” Michael twists his shirt so hard Geoff thinks the cloth might tear.

“When I came out, my mother… It wasn’t easy for her,” Geoff says. “But in the end she said that what was most important to her was for me to be happy. If your dad couldn’t feel that way for you, then he’s the one failing you. Not the other way around.”

“Yeah,” Michael mutters. “I always used to want to grow up to be like my dad,” he adds, “but now I don’t anymore. But what if I grow up to be like him anyway?”

“You won’t,” Geoff says. “You’re not just a clone of your dad. You’re your own person, you’re in control of your life and what you do.”

Michael seems to think about that for a little while. Geoff waits quietly, not wanting to disrupt whatever train of thought Michael is on. 

“How can I tell Shantelle that I don’t want to kiss her again?” Michael asks, and somehow that seems like a much easier question. It’s been quite awhile since Geoff had to break up with a girl, and it hadn’t gone particularly well, but at least he can give Michael some pointers on what not to do.


End file.
